


Dandelion In The Spring

by ClementineButtersnaps



Category: Hunger Games Trilogy - Suzanne Collins
Genre: F/M, Gale is kinda douchey, Katniss and Peeta are friends, Katniss thanks Peeta for the bread, Maybe Katniss isn't so emotionally stunted, Peeta isn't so shy, Prim is adorable
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-05-04
Updated: 2016-07-14
Packaged: 2018-06-06 09:50:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 39,317
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6748876
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ClementineButtersnaps/pseuds/ClementineButtersnaps
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Katniss found the courage to thank Peeta for the bread, striking a controversial friendship. Gale doesn't understand it and her<br/>Mother is too far gone to care. When two friends enter the Hunger Games they have to rely on each other to survive.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, welcome to the first chapter! I have 8 chapters complete as of today (5/4/16) so I'll be uploading those every few days. I have this posted on fanfiction.net by the same name (same author's name as well)

The sky has just opened up and is pouring water in sheets, I set the trap and run as fast as I can back to Peeta.

As I run, I see flashes of images in the woods next to me; I see Prim eating a full meal, my mother with a smile on her face, replacing the dead look in her eyes. I see Gale and I in our hunting hole, throwing berries at each other, I see Peeta chasing me in a field of dandelions. The smile on my face seems so foreign. The sun is shining and Peeta catches me and we tumble to the ground l, and after we catch our breath he places a gentle kiss on my lips.

The explosion behind me yanks me out of my fantasies, making me push my legs faster. I arrive to the place where Peeta said he'd be, but I see no sign of him. I spin in a circle looking for something, anything that can tell me where Peeta is.

"Katniss!"

It's Peeta and he sounds terrified. I run to the sound of his voice screaming his name. Let the creatures come, nothing can stop me from finding Peeta.

"Katniss!"

I push myself faster, suddenly breaking into a clearing. It takes a moment for my eyes to adjust to the sun shining brightly without the cover of the forest, my eyes focus and I see Peeta hunched over a small body, five feet away is the District One tribute, Marvel, laying on the ground with a dagger protruding from his chest. I look to Peeta and see that he is holding the small body, I inch closer and see that it's Rue, and she has a long spear embedded in her chest.

Peeta looks to me with wide, panic stricken eyes. "What do I do?" His voice quivers.

I look down at Rue, her dark skin has paled, her once sparkling brown eyes are dull. "Katniss?" She says, her voice barely a whisper. I kneel at her side and take her hand, it is already so cold. "I'm here Rue," I say gently squeezing her hand, she doesn't squeeze back. "Will you sing to me?" She chokes out, her breathing is shallow and ragged. I glance to Peeta, his eyes brimming with tears as he clutches the small girl to his chest.

They say the game is to survive. Survive and live a life of comfort and ease. They never prepare you for the things you must lose in order to win. To save yourself but watch children die? Rage burns hot in my belly; there is no hope for Rue, but I- we, Peeta and I can win and honor her memory and the memory of others and never let them forget the tragedies of these games. Let the creatures come. Peeta and I will be leaving this arena together, and God have mercy on president Snow's soul.

And so I sing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this was short, I'll be posting the next chapter directly after this.
> 
> Fair warning though, I've changed the rules and specs of the Games. Friendships and people are going to be different.


	2. Chapter One

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Little background on Katniss and Peeta's friendship not too much plot development. 
> 
> Gale is pretty much a big bag of dicks the first few chapters 
> 
> We meet Peeta's dad, I think he's adorable.

...

12 years old

I am awoken by my thin mattress dipping under the slight weight of my sister, Prim. She had taken to sleeping with our mother after dad died, but sometimes would find her way back to the bed we used to share. She says mom doesn't snuggle her anymore.

I roll over and take in the wide eyed, sleep messed hair that could be my sister and try not to laugh. "Is that you, little duck?" I whisper while I smooth out her hair. "There, that's better. I can see you now." Prim scoots her body closer to me and covers up in the threadbare blanket. "Are you going to die tomorrow?" I prop myself up with my elbow and furrow my brows. "Who said that?" Prim shrugs. "Judy Grayson said that Seam brats always get picked, and that if you got picked you'd be dead before the first day was over." She looks at me, her blue eyes filled with tears. "Is that going to happen? If you die, who is going to take care of me?" I pull her into my arms and kiss the top of her head. "Everything is going to be fine, Prim. I'm not going to be called tomorrow. And even if I did, I would come home, I've got to take care of my little duck. And besides, you'll have Hazel and the kids to play with." I stroke her hair behind her ears and listen to my mother lightly snoring in the bed on the other side of the room. I wish she were awake for this, she needs to hear how scared Prim is. She needs her mother. I learned about two months after daddy died that I couldn't depend on her. It's like she died right along with him. She took to her bed the day it happened and hasn't really left it since.

"Who will take care of mommy?" Prim's voice just above a whisper. "Mommy will have to take care of herself." I look to the window and see the sky is turning a steely grey with the rising sun. "Alright, little duck, back to sleep with you. We've got a big day, Peeta's coming over in the afternoon for a picnic. You don't want to be tired and cranky do you?" Her little face beams and she smiles widely. "Oh, no, Peeta's doesn't like it when I'm cranky. He says it makes him sad to see me not smiling." She says, her little body practically vibrating with excitement. "Well then," I say poking her nose. "Let's get a bit more sleep before we get up for the day. You can tell him that joke you learned yesterday." Prim nods her head and burrows into my side.

...

After I make sure Prim has breakfast, I try one more time to get my mother to eat. She is huddled under her blankets staring blankly at the wall, I set the small bowl of vegetable soup on the table by the bed. "You have to eat something, mom. I haven't seen you eat anything in three days," She still stares at the wall. I take her hand and try a gentler approach, "Mom, please, you need to eat. Maybe you could even come to the table. I bet Prim would like that." When she still doesn't acknowledge me I rip my hand away from hers, burning anger coursing through me. "Fine, starve yourself. See if I care!" I yell at her prone form before stomping out of the room.

I busy myself in the kitchen cleaning until Peeta knocks on the door. I hear the patter of Prim's small feet scurrying to the door, she throws it open and I hear her squeal. "Peeta!" I walk to the door just in time to see her catapult her tiny frame into his arms. "Prim," I light scold her. "give Peeta a chance to catch you before you throw yourself at him."

Peeta smiles at me before turning his blue eyes down to the bundle in his arms. "I don't mind, I always catch you don't I, Rose?" He says rubbing the top of her head. It only took two times of Peeta meeting Prim for him to fall in love with her. He has two older brothers, Bram and Rye, and he said that he always wanted a little sister. He said that Primrose- although a lovely name- just didn't fit her age, and Prim is what everyone else called her, he felt that she deserved a special name that only he could use. She's been his Rose ever since.

"Haven't dropped me yet!" She said smiling at him.

"Are you ready?" He asked smiling down at Prim. She smiled brightly at him and shook her head excitedly, and then danced passed him onto our small porch.

Peeta opened the small basket he had brought with him and pulled out a small piece of cake. "I know things with your mom are hard, but I thought maybe she might like this. It's not very fresh, but it's the only thing I could nab without my mom noticing."

His thoughtfulness always warmed my heart. His mother wasn't very nice, his older brothers were hormonal creeps- Mostly Rye, Bram was a little more reserved. Rye liked to make crude jokes about us always running off to the woods.- and his father was a quiet man. It was nice to know that Peeta had such a good heart.

"I wouldn't bother, but I suppose she'll eat it if she gets hungry enough." I said taking the small cake from him and putting it on the counter before joining him and Prim outside.

Prim had managed to convince him that she needed a piggyback ride, not that Peeta needed convincing, he'd do just about anything she asked.

The walk to the meadow was quick, we alternated between running (Prim's request) and speed walking. Once we reached a spot that Prim had deemed worthy of our picnic, Peeta dumped her onto the soft grass causing her to squeal with laughter.

"If I pick the flowers will you make them into crowns?" Prim asked, her crystal blue eyes dancing.

"Sure, little duck. Don't take too long, we need to eat."

Prim jumped up and began picking flowers. "Make sure you keep the stems long, duck!" I called after her. I turned my gaze to Peeta to see him pulling out the food he managed to swipe. Three cheese buns a cupcake and a few pouches of juice.

Prim returned and we ate while I showed her how to weave the stems together to make the crowns. She placed one on my head and then put on hers. "Do we look like princesses, Peeta?" She asked turning up her nose and fluffing her hair. I couldn't help the light chuckled that escapes my lips, she really did look like a snobby princess. "You're both lovely," Peeta said.

"Oh! Do you want to hear my joke, Peeta?" Prim asks excitedly.

"I would love to hear it, Rose."

"Ok, so a duck goes into a store to buy some stuff for his dry lips. The person working asks how he's going to pay for it. He tells her to put it on his bill. His bill! It's funny because ducks don't have lips!" She says laughing and clapping her hands.

Peeta chuckles at her. "That was very good,"

"I think I said it wrong, but Mrs. Andreas said that was a joke from when her grandmother was my age."

Peeta smiles at her and ruffles her hair.

Afterwards as we walked home Prim had run to catch up with Hazel and Rory, who stood in their front yard just a few houses away from ours. Leaving Peeta and I to walk together.

"Are you nervous about tomorrow?" Peeta asked quietly.

"A little, but it's our first year, we'll be fine." I said, trying to convince both of us.

"And what if it's not?" He questioned stopping in front of my house.

"Don't think like that, Peeta. Everything will be ok. And when everything is done we'll pick berries and I can try and make a pie!" I said trying my best to sound cheerful.

Peeta smiled and nodded his head. "Ok, tomorrow after the reaping we'll pick berries." He smiled again but it didn't reach his eyes. I reached out and pulled him into a hug.

"We'll be fine, nothing to worry about."

He pulled away and wiped at his damp eyes, he said a quick goodbye and turned and ran home.

Prim and Hazel came back a few minutes after Peeta had left. "How's your friend?" Hazel asked looking concerned, there was no need for her to ask why Peeta was upset, this was Gale's third reaping, Hazel had to live through her own. Everyone is scared this time of year.

"He'll be alright. He's Merchant, he doesn't have to worry too much."

I may be young but I know how these Games work. They're set up for the poor to lose while the citizens with a higher class thrive. I have never held that against Peeta, you can't help the family you're born into. I said goodnight to Hazel and took Prim inside. I noticed the cake on the counter was gone, trying not I get my hopes up, I walked to the back of the house and peeked in the door. My mother lay on her bed, her wide unseeing eyes trained on the wall. Another night of cooking for Prim and trying to explain that mommy is too sick to tell her a bedtime story.

...

I wake just before the sun rises, it's reaping day and I have to make sure there is food to eat in case I don't come home today. Hazel has offered to keep Prim this morning until after the reaping. She tries to help when she can, but with four children at home there was only so much she could do. She would sometimes come over to help tidy up and bring us some dinner if there was any left over.

I roll on my side and look over to my mothers bed, she is, as usual, facing the wall and Prim is huddled behind her, a small hand clutched to the back of her night shirt. She has no clue just how much Prim needs her.

I climb out of bed and slip into a pair of worn trousers and put on the old pair of boots I traded three squirrels for at The Hob. They were old and the heels had been worn down on one side, making it difficult to walk at first, but I've gotten used to it.

After I've dressed and gathered some clothes for Prim, I wake her and she gets dressed in silence, and gives our mother a kiss before she exits the room. I don't bother looking in her direction.

I make the walk quicker to the Hawthorns by having Prim hop on my back, Gale and I need to get these snares set up before the sun comes up too much, so we can practice with my fathers old bows he has stashed in the forest.

Hazel and Gale greet me at the door, Hazel takes Prim from my back and Gale and I head over to the fence.

Gale and I have known each other our whole lives, we don't feel the need for pointless chatter, so it's unsurprising that our journey to the fence is silent.

After slipping under the fence we make our way to the fallen tree that has my fathers bow tucked inside the hallow trunk. My bow is in another fallen tree a few yards away. Every time I see my fathers bow I wish I had paid more attention when he tried to teach me how to shoot. But I was a child who stupidly thought she had plenty of time to learn. Gale and I mostly rely on setting snares to get game, we set them and hike further into the trees to practice shooting. I've been able to get a few squirrels so far, but I want to be able to take down something bigger.

We had just sat down on our rock ledge after Gale had set the last snare when Gale clears his throat.

"I'm sure you're nervous, but it being your first year, you really shouldn't worry. You've got one slip." He says, trying to reassure me.

I turn to look at him, suddenly concerned for my friend. "And how many do you have?"

He look away from me before answering. "Twelve,"

This is where the reaping is unfair for those in the Seam, you are eligible for reaping the year you turn twelve. Your name gets written on a slip once, and then for your thirteenth year, two slips, and so on. You can have your name added more times in exchange for a meager supply of oil and grains called Tesserae, you can take out Tesserae for any member of your household, but it counts as another slip with your name on it. The Merchants rarely have this problem.

Gale has never had to take out Tesserae while his father was alive, he wouldn't allow him to. He was too proud, and wouldn't risk his son when he was capable of getting what they needed from the forest. Last year was the first time he had to take out Tesserae.

I let out a huff of air, "Twelve isn't so bad."

Gale laughs darkly, "Yeah, not bad."

"There are over a hundred kids in the district, Gale. Twelve is not a big number."

He plays with the hem of his shirt for a moment before looking at me, the seriousness of his stare is unsettling. "If I get called today, I want you to look after them." He doesn't have to tell me who "them" is. I love his family like I love Prim.

I nod solemnly, "Of course, Gale."

He bobs his head once. "I'd make sure Prim and your mother were taken care of."

We sit for a while before the sun is higher in the sky. "We better check the traps before it gets too late." We didn't practice shooting, too absorbed in the What Ifs.

We got two rabbits, and four squirrels today. It doesn't seem like much, but I can sell the rabbit pelts and trade a squirrel for a loaf of bread and Peeta's bakery. As usual we split the game up equally and head back to the fence.

"I've gotta get to the Mellark's before the square is full of Peacekeepers."

"Yeah, wouldn't want to keep your Merchant puppy waiting."

It wasn't what Gale said- I've grown used to his open distaste for everyone in town, including Peeta- it was the way he said it, like the words were acid and he needed to spit them out before he got burned.

I stopped short and turned to face him. "What did you say?" I asked hardening my tone.

"C'mon Catnip, that boy follows you around like some lost puppy."

"Peeta does not, we're friends. Friends like to be around one another." Unless they're being a jerk, like you. I think to myself.

"Whatever." Gale says petulantly. "His mom sure hates your guts, what makes you think he's really your friend? He's a stuck up Merch-" I cut him off by pushing him to the ground. He doesn't know Peeta at all.

"You shut up, Gale Hawthorne. You don't know anything about Peeta. He is kind and compassionate. You could learn a few things from him!" I shout at Gale, who is still sprawled out on the forest floor.

I turn to the fence and quickly slide through.

It's still early enough that there is no one on the road, all businesses are shut down on reaping day. People try and sleep as much as they can on this day.

I make my way as quick as I can, dodging Peacekeepers and staying out of sight from prying eyes. The back door to the bakery is just a few feet away.

Just as I am about to knock on the door, Mr. Mellark opens up. He is a stocky man, not very tall, but sturdy. "Oh, Katniss, so nice to see you. Peeta isn't up just yet." He said glancing behind him, no doubt watching out for his horrible wife, the witch.

"That's ok, I'm actually here to see if we can trade?"

His blue eyes light up, "Are you sure you want to trade today? Wouldn't you want to keep it for yourselves?"

"It's alright, we've got plenty of meat today. I did catch a few squirrels, I can part with one." I reached into my game bag and pulled out a fat squirrel. Mr. Mellark took it from my hand and studied it.

"Why you are a fat little thing. I think you might be worth a loaf of bread," He looks at me with dancing eyes. "and perhaps a sugar cookie too." He says, turning his gaze back to the squirrel. He turns back into the bakery and brings out the loaf of bread and s small cookie with yellow frosting and a white flower on it.

There is a small clamor on the stairs and I tense waiting for Mrs. Mellark to enter the kitchen. I let out a sigh when I see it's only Peeta. His hair still rumpled from sleep and his eyes squinting from the sun coming in from the open back door. He smiles brightly when he noticed me standing there.

"Good morning, Katniss." He says with a slight yawn.

I chuckle at his sleepiness. "It's closer to afternoon,"

"Well, I've just woken up, so it's my morning." He says sticking his tongue out at me. After a moment his face turns somber, remembering what today is.

"Hey now, everything will be fine, boy." His father says putting a reassuring hand on his shoulder.

"Yeah, remember you're coming berry picking with Prim and I after supper."

"That's a nice idea. Your mother is having tea with the Northrups after dinner, you can come back here and we'll make a pie."

I nod to Mr. Mellark before telling Peeta bye. I try not to think that it might be the last time I see him.

...

I open the door to the bedroom and find my mother still in the same position from this morning. I take my time pulling out an outfit acceptable for the reaping, the dress is a simple yellow dress that my mother made me before my father died, this will probably be the last time I fit in it.

I walk over to my mothers bed and sit next to her, her eyes are open and unfocused. "Mom, it's reaping day. You have to get up." Nothing. I shake her shoulder. "Please, I need you to walk with me." Still nothing. I try one last thing, "Mom, please, I'm scared." Not a complete lie. But I'd tell her just about anything to get her to wake up. She doesn't even blink.

Doesn't she see how selfish she is? We miss dad too, but I'm out in the forest, risking getting caught by Peacekeepers every day to make sure we have something to eat. I'm the one who puts Prim to bed. I'm the one she comes to when there's a storm and she's scared. I'm the one who helps clean her up if she gets hurt. It suddenly occurs to me that, right here, in this moment, I truly hate my mother. It's been six months, she has to pull herself together. Prim and I almost starved to death, if it hadn't been for Peeta- I don't even remember raising my hand, but the stinging of my palm tells me I've just struck my mother. "I hate you!" I hit her shoulder. "I hate you! Why couldn't you have died instead!" I run and quickly change before charging out the door towards the square.

It's hot, and there are so many people cramped around the square. I get in line like Gale told me to. They prick my finger, and I get in the right square. They prick my finger, and I get in the right square. The line moves much too quickly for my liking and all too soon I'm the next one to check in.

"Name?" The female Peacekeeper asks in a cold monotone voice.

"K-Katniss Everdeen," I stutter out. The woman roughly grabs my hand and uses a strange pen type thing to poke my finger and smear a drop of my blood next to my name. Why they go through so much trouble identifying people I don't know, why would I try and pretend to be someone else? If I was going to try something funny like that, I'd just skip reaping day.

After that, I am roughly pushed into a roped off section with other girls in my age group. I stand on my toes and scan the crowd and try and locate Peeta and Gale. I see Gale standing in the middle of his rope square, the tallest of the bunch, his head is down with his eyes closed and his lips are moving ever so slightly.

I look around again and see just the top of a sunny patch of hair, Peeta. Almostas if he senses me her stands up taller and looks around before seeing me. I give him a reassuring smile, he nods at me.

The speakers around the square crackle and Pepper Atwood- District 12's escort- climbs up the stairs to the stage. She is wearing a dress that looks like it is made of cotton candy- Not sure what it is, I've seen a picture of it once before- it's blue and pink, and her tall platform shoes have live gold fish swimming in the soles. She is very old, this will most likely be her last year. I wonder what they do with escorts when they retire? Something tells me it's not very nice. My dad once said that you don't want to out live your usefulness in the Capital, I'm not sure I want to know what happens then.

"Welcome! The 70th Hunger Games are just around the corner, aren't you all excited? I know I am!" Her comment is met by a few cries from the children and a few yells from the parents. "Moving on! Let's start with a wonderful message from our marvelous President Snow!" She uses her hands with long pointy green fingernails to gesture to the large screens on the justice building. I turn away and look for Hazel, she is in the back holding Posey; Prim, Vick and Rory standing next to her. Vick's first reaping is next year, he has been putting on a brave face the last few weeks, but we all know he's terrified.

"Ladies first!" Pepper calls out. She crosses to the glass bowl with the slips of paper for the girls, digs around and walks back. After unfolding the paper she clears her throat. "Ursa Strong," My heart falls into my stomach. I don't really know Ursa, but she did help me from getting beat up when I was ten. We've shared a few smiles in passing. I wish I would have been brave enough to thank her.

As she is walking passed me I reach my hand out and take hold of her and squeeze it quickly. She smiles and squeezes back. She climbs up to the stage and Pepper gets a slip from the boys bowl.

"Everett Wilson!"

Idon't know this boy, he is small with Seam features, dark hair, tan skin and grey eyes. He is quietly crying as he makes his way up.

After they shake hands they are whisked behind the curtain at the back of the stage and kids slowly return to their parents. I look over to where I had last seen Peeta. He is walking to me, he looks relieved, but I can still see the underlying sadness in his eyes.

"So, berry picking?" He asks with a fake smile.

"I have to get Prim, meet me at my house when your mother leaves."

"Ok," he turns to leave but I grab his arm and bring him into a hug. This is the third time I've shown psychical affection towards Peeta- I'm not really a hugger unless is comes to Prim- but I think today warrants a hug, or two. It takes him a moment but he returns my hug. I pat him on the back and release him.

"Mother leaves just after supper, we should have plenty of sun still."

I tell Peeta goodbye and I run to the Hawthorns to collect Prim. Gale is outside with his brothers but I ignore him, still angry with his comments about Peeta. If he knew what Peeta did for me he wouldn't be able to even think of Peeta as selfish and entitled like the other Merchants. But there is no way I'm telling him about the bread.

I take Prim home and check on my mother, still in bed, shocker.

I reheat the stew I made last night and see to it that she eats. I've decided to stop bringing trays in for my mother, she never eats and if rather not waste the food. I assume she must eat at some point, she's not dead yet.

Peeta knocks on the door and the three of us quickly make our way to the fence. We pick berries as fast as we can and run back to the bakery.

Mr. Mellark helps us with the crust and shows us how to cook the berries.

In this moment it's easy to forget the events of this afternoon, I cling to this moment when Everett purposefully stumbles on his launch plate causing him to be blown up. I think of this moment as I fall asleep to forget the images of Ursa being tied to a tree while the Careers take turns cutting off pieces of her body.

Because, right here, baking pies in Peeta's kitchen, nothing can touch us.


	3. Chapter Two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This will be the last chapter before I get into the actual story. (Also, I made Gale an extra year older, you'll see why.)
> 
> This is also our first real introduction to my favorite sort of OC, Peeta's brother Rye! I love writing him, I hope you enjoy him in future chapters as much as I do. 
> 
> Enjoy!

15 Years Old

Three days before the reaping I decide to take Peeta to the pond my father found when he was my age, I'm mostly doing this to just get away; but after Henley Thatcher- the daughter of a merchant- drowned during the last Games when she tumbled down a hill and landed in a river, I knew it would be best to teach Peeta to swim, just in case.

We are running and laughing quite ridiculously through the woods, I'm not looking for game, so the noise isn't a problem. Good thing too, I can practically hear Peeta walking around the bakery from my house, he just naturally has a heavy tread.

"It's a good thing you were born into a merchant family, Peet. I think you'd starve to death if you had to hunt for all your meals." The only response I get is a rather perturbed grunt and a stick thrown at me, which I dodge effortlessly.

"Now, now, Peeta. Is that anyway to treat your very best friend? I almost just paid you a compliment!"

"I'd run faster if I were you," Peeta wheezes, but there is still laughter in his voice.

"What are you going to do when you catch me? Stomp me with your big heavy feet?" I snap back. I jump over a tree root and hide behind a large tree, I hold my breath and wait for Peeta to come passed me. After a few moments I become confused, I wasn't that far a head of him, he should have passed me by now-

"Got you!" Peeta shouts behind me, I startle a bit and turn around, he looks like the cat who got the cream. "I'm sorry, did you not hear my big heavy feet sneaking up behind you?"

I fix my eyes over his shoulder, widening them as much as they'll go, I raise a shaky hand and point off in the distance behind him. Peeta's face pales, "What is it?" He whispers. I don't speak, I just continue to stare. Peeta slowly turns around, when he has his back fully to me I push him away and scream, "Made you look!" And I take off running again.

"Oh you think you're so funny, don't you, Everdeen?" Peeta shouts behind me. I don't bother replying. We're almost there, I can see the thinning of the trees.

A few moments later we crash through the trees and come to a stop at the edge of the water. There's a small rock beach to the left and a very old rickety dock, I think my father might have built it, I haven't been on it in years. It looks too unstable now. I fall to the grass to catch my breath, Peeta lays next to me, but in a more gentle manner. Ever the sweet bakers son.

"So, are you going to tell me what we're doing here?" Peeta asks gently tugging on my braid. I reach over and take my braid from his hand, he's no longer tugging, but is still holding it. I've long since quit questioning Peeta's need for physical contact. His mother is a wretched woman, he doesn't talk about it, but I've see the markings she leaves him with. I hate her. It doesn't bother me so much anymore; I used to be guarded when we first became friends, if he tried to hug me I would step away. But Peeta is like the sun after a cloudy day, you can't help but embrace him. Prim says his hugs are magic, they make everything better.

"I think it's time you learned to swim," I say sitting up. "after the last Games we have to be prepared for anything. And since I already know how to swim, it's your turn. And after I told Prim I would find her some strawberries."

Peeta huffs and sits up beside me, he takes a minute to look around him. "It sure is pretty here, do you come here a lot?"

"Not as often as I like, I've only taken Prim here a handful of times. It's a long hike and she tires too quickly and I have to carry her." Peeta chuckles at this.

"And Gale?" I look over at him, there's an odd expression in his eyes, I can't quite place it.

"No, I've never brought him. I don't think he would appreciate it as much as you would. There's no fish in this pond, he would find the trip to be unnecessary. He doesn't like to have much fun these days."

Peeta thinks for a moment before he starts to take his shoes off. I stand up and take off my over shirt, thankful I had the foresight to wear a ratty tank top and shorts today. Peeta stands and removes his shirt too, I avert my eyes. I've seen Peeta shirtless a few times over the years, but it's only recently that I've noticed his chest and arms have become more muscular from his work at the bakery hauling around flour. I don't know what to make of the heat that rises on my cheeks. Maybe I'd feel just as flustered with Gale?

"Alright, Miss Everdeen, lead the way." Peeta says gesturing to the water. I glance at him quickly before I make my way to the edge of the shore, I don't stop until I'm waist deep in the murky water. I turn around and see that Peeta is barely to his ankles, staring at the water with apprehension.

"What's wrong?" I call out.

"It's cold," he mutters

"C'mon, just come out here and you'll get used to it." I say splashing a little water in his direction, getting a few droplets on his shorts.

"Knock it off!"

"What are you going to do about it? You won't go passed your dainty feet." I tease.

Peeta narrows his eyes and squares his shoulders, he stomps towards me as best as the water will allow and stops in front of me, almost nose to nose. "Dainty? I know you didn't just call my feet "dainty," Big Hands." Oh, he's pulling out the big guns now.

I scoff, "You didn't complain about my big hands when I had to pull a piece of glass out of your hand two weeks ago." I say putting my hands on my hips.

Peeta laughs, "I wouldn't have had the glass in my hand if you hadn't tripped me while we were walking home."

"I wouldn't have tripped you if you weren't making a fool of yourself in front of Kaytlin Griffen! She asked what you liked doing at the bakery and you told her your favorite part was making the cheese buns because they're my favorite." I said rolling my eyes.

Peeta scrunched his eyes and tilts his head. "I don't see what the problem is."

"No girl is going to want to date a boy who keeps talking about another girl all the time." I say.

Peeta holds up a hand, "Ok, hold on a second. What the heck are you talking about?"

"I overheard your mother and Mrs. Griffen the other day. She said that it will be most likely you won't be working in the bakery because of you being the youngest of three boys, and Mrs. Griffen said that Kaytlin has always had a crush on you; and she and her husband have no boys to leave the shop to. Your mother said that she thinks you two would be a smart match."

Peeta is quiet for a few moments, I get scared that maybe I shouldn't have said anything, before he starts laughing.

"What the heck is so funny?"

"You- you really think I'd let my mother force me into some twisted business arrangement disguised as a marriage?"

"This isn't funny, Peeta, we're talking about your life! Do you want to be stuck down in the mines?" I shout at him. The thought of Peeta being trapped in a mine for twelve hours a day makes my chest feel tight. Peeta is the sun, he would die down there.

"If that meant I got to live my life the way I wanted it, then yes. That's exactly what I would do, and I'd marry a girl I really loved, not someone my mother told me to." He says, his eyes are bright and serious, it's a little frightening seeing the fire behind them.

"Well, ok then," I reply, not really knowing what to say. After a moment I bring the subject up again. "Do you think you could love Kaytlin one day?" I'm still unsure why this bothers me.

Peeta looks at me funny. "Have you had a conversation with her before?" I can't stop the laugh that come out. Kaytlin is, for lack of a better word, obsessed with desserts, she'll talk forever about cakes and other sweets.

"Point taken," I sigh. "Alright, we're wasting daylight. Come out a little more and I'll show you how to float."

I help Peeta float on his back and show him the breaststroke while I hold him up a little. I show him how to tread water and make him swim around me for a few minutes until he gets the hang of it. Now we're just floating on our backs looking at the clouds.

"Thanks for bringing me today, it means a lot." Peeta says reaching out and taking my hand.

I give his hand a squeeze in reply.

"We should head to shore, and go look for strawberries. Prim will be sad if we don't bring her any." We swim lazily to the rock beach, Peeta is doing very well, I think one more lesson and he'll be as good as me.

We lay in the sun and dry out for a little while. I wish we had brought something to snack on, maybe if we find enough strawberries we can eat some on the way home.

We head into the forest and go to an area where I've gotten the berries before. "There has always been a few patches in the area, why don't you go that way and see if you can find them and I'll be over here." I tell Peeta, point off to my left. He nods and starts walking in the direction I told him to.

I've got my over shirt almost full with strawberries when I find Peeta picking berries from a bush I've only seen once before. He turns his head and smiles when he sees me. "I don't think I've seen these before, they look really good." He says handing one out to me. They almost look like blueberries, but the skin is wrong. It's black and shiny. Nightlock.

"Did you eat any?" I ask frantically slapping the berry from his hand.

Peeta looks at the berry on the ground and then back at me, he almost looks offended. "No," he draws out the word. "You told me the first time I went berry picking with you that if I didn't recognize the berry to ask you. What kind of berry was that?"

Relief courses through me. "It's called Nightlock. You eat that and you'll be dead before the juices reach your stomach."

Peeta nods thoughtfully. "Black, shiny berries bad. Got it."

"Looks like you got a shirt full too, let's head back. I want to see about trading before it gets too dark."

We are about ten minutes away from the fence when I see Gale's empty snares up ahead, I walk closer to Peeta and whisper to him, "I'm not ready for Gale to know about the pond just yet, all we did was look for strawberries, ok?" Peeta only nods.

A moment later Gale steps out from behind a tree, a few squirrels hooked to his belt. He smiles at me, but his expression darkens when he takes in Peeta walking beside me.

"Hey, Catnip, what are you and bread boy doing out here?"

I shrug, "Just getting some strawberries for Prim,"

A smirk spreads across Gales lips, "You going to bake a pretty cake with yours, Mellark?"

"No, I'll be giving mine to Prim as well." Peeta says politely, he either doesn't recognize Gale's teasing tone, or he's choosing to ignore it.

I start walking again knowing Peeta will follow, I don't like it when Gale starts straight away on Peeta.

"So, Mellark, you make anymore pretty cakes lately? It takes a real light touch to pull that off," Gale says flapping his wrist.

"Alright, that's enough. I'll see you later Gale." I say grabbing Peeta's hand and marching away. Once we're out of earshot I apologize to Peeta.

"It's alright," Peeta say squeezing my hand, I hadn't even noticed I was still holding his. The heat in my cheeks comes back and my palm feels funny, I yank my hand away and pat it on my shorts to dry it off. I try and rub away the uncomfortable feeling in my chest.

"You ok?" Peeta asks putting a hand on my shoulder, it feels like it weighs a hundred pounds and sends a shock into my skin. I shake it off, "Y-yeah, just a little short of breath." I stutter.

"Do you need to rest?" Peeta steps in front of me, so I'm forced to stop.

I look away from his concerned eyes. "Nope, I'm good. Let's just get these strawberries home."

He looks at me for a moment longer, tilting his head to the side. "Ok," he says, but he doesn't sound convinced.

A short walk after we crawl from under the fence finds us at my front gate. Prim is crawling on her hands and knees chasing an orange ball of fur.

"What in the world..." I trail off opening the gate and stepping closer to my sister. "What are you doing Little Duck?"

She turns around, startled. "Oh, Katniss! Isn't he cute? His name is Buttercup, he was stuck on the fence." She scoops the kitten up and presents it to me.

"I see, why is it still here?" It is a cute little thing, but there is no way it can stay here.

"Mom said I could keep him. Isn't that wonderful?" She squeals.

I open and close my mouth a few times, unsure what to say. I can barely keep meat in the house with the three of us, I don't know what to do with a kitten. I look at Peeta, hoping he can help me.

"Well, I should be going. I brought you some strawberries too, Rose." Traitor. Peeta dumps his strawberries onto my shirt and gives Prim a quick hug. He turns to me with a large over exaggerated smile, showing all of his teeth.

"Have fun," he whispers. "Don't be too hard on her, at least she's trying." He says referring to my mother. "I'll see you soon." He says wrapping his arms around me, he pats my back once and runs out of the gate.

"Jerk," I mutter, I walked past Prim, who has gone back to playing with the kitten, and open the front door. My mother is at the sink rinsing off carrots. I put the strawberries into a bowl and turn toward her. "You said she could keep the kitten?" I take the carrots from her and start cutting them.

"Mhmm," she answers.

"How are we going to feed it? Did you see it? It's bloated with worms. We can't keep it."

"Oh Katniss, we'll figure out something. She just looked so happy, I didn't want to disappoint her."

I look at my mother, she had a small smile looking back at me. "You know, it's funny; for almost a year you didn't seem too concerned if you disappointed us. You did it quite regularly actually." I deadpan.

Her smile disappears.

I stare at her for a moment, before turning on my heal and walking to the door.

"I'm sorry," I hear her whisper, I ignore her.

I find Prim sitting on the ground dragging a piece a string around while the cat tries to catch it.

"If you insist on keeping that thing it needs to feed itself. I will not waste meat on it." I say plopping down next to her. The kitten wonders over to me, I reach out to touch it but it hisses at me. Same to you.

"Oh, Buttercup is a born mouser, you'll see. Just look at him chase the string." She dangles the string in the air and the kitten jumps and snags it with its claws, and furiously chews on it.

"Ok, let's get a box and some dirt for while he's in the house. He's your responsibility, I expect you to clean up after him. If I have to remind you he won't be welcome inside anymore. Understood?"

Prim beams, "Thank you! Thank you! Thank you! I'll take care of him, I promise!"

"Alright, Little Duck, let's get him settled then."

After we get the box under the sink in the bathroom I help my mother finish dinner. Prim and I are now sitting on the bed while I braid her hair. Buttercup is sleeping in a ball on her lap.

"Do you think you and Peeta will get married someday?" Prim asks casually, my fingers fumble for a moment before picking up where I left off.

"I'm not getting married to anyone Prim," I say finishing off the braid with a rubber band. She turns to face me.

"Why not?"

"I just don't see the point, I've got you to worry about." I say shrugging.

"But I'll get married someday and you won't have to worry about me. Don't you want to be happy?"

The realization that Prim is getting older settles in my stomach like a stack of bricks, she isn't going to need me forever. "And who says I have to have a husband to be happy?" I say lightly tugging on one of her braids.

"I guess you don't, but if you were to get married, I want you to be with Peeta. You love each other,"

"Of course we love each other, we're best friends."

Prim raises her eyebrows. "You don't hug Gale as much as you do Peeta... And his only friend that's a girl is you. And he is always looking at you."

"I don't have time for love, Prim." I say trying to end the conversation.

"But if you did,"

"I don't know, Prim. It's time to go to bed." I say laying back on my pillow. My mother is at the Anderson's, Mr. Anderson almost lost a finger in the mines today.

Prim holds Buttercup and crawls up to her side and puts the kitten between us. "If I get bitten by fleas he is sleeping on the floor from now on." Prim giggles and pulls the cat closer to her.

"Good night," she says quietly.

"Good night, Little Duck."

...

Peeta comes over early the next afternoon inviting me to come over for dinner. I immediately refuse, his mother will be home.

"No way, Peet. Your mother hates me,"

Peeta sighs and rolls his eyes. "C'mon, it's Rye's last reaping, he wants to have dinner tonight instead of tomorrow. He asked me to ask you." I can't help but laugh at that. Rye is incredibly crass, he is always making jokes about Peeta and I, and I am always having to slap away his wondering hands.

"Oh well, if Rye insists," I say sarcastically.

"Really?" Peeta asks with a hopeful smile.

"No," I say.

"Come on, I talked to my mom, and she says that if you don't talk to her she won't talk to you." I raise my eyebrow at this. "Ok, it wasn't put that nicely, but I got her to say she'd leave you alone."

A free meal wouldn't be so bad I suppose, and I made no such promise to be nice. A wicked smile appears on my face. "Alright, I'll be there."

Peeta groans, "Don't smile like that, it's creepy."

"What?" I ask, "Like this?" I say grinning wider.

"Yes! Ugh, you're making my skin crawl. Just- I'll come get you at six."

"Ok, I'll see you then." I say through laughter.

"Right," Peeta says with a nod. "bye." He finishes, awkwardly punching my shoulder. We stare at each other for a minute before he clears his throat and walks down the stairs and out the gate.

Six o'clock couldn't come soon enough, as soon as I told my mother and Prim about it Prim has been humming the wedding march and calling me Mrs. Mellark. The blush that accompanies her comments only eggs her on. I almost jump through the door when he finally knocks. I whip the door open and grab Peeta's hand and run out of the yard, I ignore Peeta's pleas to slow down until I can't see my house anymore.

"What are you doing?" He says tugging his arm free.

"Prim has been bugging me all afternoon about going to your place."

"You're not going to get in trouble are you?"

"What? No, she seems to think we should get married someday." I say, Peeta's face turns pink and he looks away, a small smile etched on his face. I choose to ignore it for now.

We cut through alleyways and back streets to make the walk shorter, when we get to the back entrance to the bakery Rye is sitting on the stairs looking up at the sky. He looks just like Peeta- corn silk hair, blue eyes (although I've noticed Peeta's are brighter) he has the same stocky build- but he is just a little taller. He looks to us and winks when he catches my eye. Here we go.

"Oh good, Peety is back. And he brought back my favorite Kitten." He says wiggling his eyebrows. He heard Gale call me Catnip last year and he now calls me Kitten, usually followed by a suggestive gesture or phrase. I've noticed that the angrier Peeta gets, the more Rye teases me.

"Always wonderful to see you, Rye." I say sweetly. He puffs out his chest. "I'm so glad that zit from last week has cleared up." His chest deflates and he glares at me.

"Keep saying hurtful things like that Kitten and I won't take you to the harvest festival." He says pointing a finger at me.

"Oh gee! I was looking forward to that too! Rats!" A day snapping my fingers.

"Ok, ok, you can still go with me, I might even give you a kiss goodnight if you're lucky." He says winking at Peeta. I look at Peeta out of the corner of my eye, his jaw is locked and his hand is in a fist. I will never understand why Rye gets him so upset. Best not instigate any further.

"Well, it's been absolutely wonderful chatting with you, but at this point having my nails ripped off seems more entertaining."

"Ouch, you wound me, woman." He says holding his hand over his heart and staggering back a few paces.

"Is dinner ready, Rye?" Peeta asks through clenched teeth.

"Yes, I was sent out to be the welcome wagon. And to remind our dear sweet Kitty to be on her best behavior." He pauses to cup his mouth and stage whispers "mother has counted all the silverware, and is using the chipped china she keeps in the basement." I roll my eyes. As if I would steal from them.

Peeta sighs and leads me into the bakery kitchen and up the stairs to their apartment. I've only been here a few times, but as far as his parents are aware, this is the first. I've snuck in the window to do homework with Peeta a couple of times.

Their apartment isn't very big, it's larger than my home, but for a merchants living quarters it's small. There's a small living room with a television and old couch, a formal sitting area just off of the kitchen and a modest dinning room. I don't see his mother, but his father and brother are at the stove and sink. I walk over to Mr. Mellark.

"Can I help with anything?" I ask.

"Oh, Katniss, hello. Well, yes, you could take these plates to the table, Peeta will show you how to set it." He says cheerfully, handing me the plates.

After we've set the table Bram and Mr. Mellark bring the food to the table and Bram leaves to call his mother to dinner.

"Yes, I'm coming, I'm coming. It's just the dirty Seam Bra-" she stops and plasters a fake smile on her face. I hate this woman. "Katniss," she says cooly, sitting down across from me.

"Mrs. Mellark," I say in the same icy tone.

Mr. Mellark claps his hands and tells us to serve ourselves.

Dinner is fairly quiet, Mr. Mellark asks how Prim is doing (I've learned my mother is a sore subject in the Mellark household. I've never asked why.) I tell him about the kitten and how excited she was when our mother said she could keep him.

Rye keeps tossing bits of bread at me, I try and ignore him. Bram talks about learning the books for the bakery. And Peeta's mother is quiet. She hasn't said a word since we sat down.

"You are awfully quiet, darling, how was your day?" Mr. Mellark asks setting his fork down and giving his wife all of his attention.

"Today was lovely, I had tea with Harriet Griffen this afternoon." My stomach clenches at the name. "I have invited Kaytlin over for dinner tomorrow night so she can get to know the family." She says smirking at me.

"Mother," Peeta sighs. "please don't start. I've told you how I feel about this."

"I'm just trying to help," she sniffs. "you'll never find a suitable wife if you spend all your time with trash." She says calmly, using her hand to lazily indicate me. I've put up with a lot of snide comments from Mrs. Mellark in passing, but this is the first time she has outright insulted me. I stand up quickly, almost knocking my chair over and stare down at her. I vaguely hear Rye making hissing and other cat noises. Peeta stands too- gentler, more deliberate- he takes me by the hand and looks to his mother. "I'll just take my trash and go," he says pulling me towards the stairs.

"If you leave Peeta Mellark don't you bother coming home tonight!" His mother shouts after us.

We walk back to my house in silence, just before we reach the gate Peeta stops me. "I'm sorry about my mother," he says fiddling absently with my fingers.

"Not your fault your mother is a witch," I say. He squeezes his eyes shut. "Sorry," I say.

He looks at me and smiles. "No you're not," he replies with a laugh, it's short, but sincere.

"You're right, I'm not." I say lightly punching his arm. "C'mon, I'll have my mom make up the couch for you."

After thanking my mother for the hundredth time Peeta finally settles in for the night.

I help Prim with her bath and braid her hair while she plays with Buttercup, she doesn't ask why Peeta is staying over, and I don't explain. I think she knows more than she lets on. We fall asleep before my mother comes to bed.

...

It's the morning of the reaping and as always Gale and I are out early to hopefully get as much game as we can before I have to get myself ready for the reaping. Gale had been silent all the way from my house to our little spot on the rock ledge.

We sit and look out over the valley, soaking up the early morning sun.

"I saw Mellark leave your house this morning. What's up with that?" He asks in an almost accusatory tone.

"Not that it's your business, but, Peeta had a fight with his mother and she told him not to come back last night." I snap, instantly on the defensive.

Gale hums in response, "You two are getting pretty close lately." He says looking over the trees.

I tilt my head and furrow my brows, "Yes," I draw out the word. "I suppose we are. Where is this going?"

"How long do you think you guys can keep this up? His mother practically has him married off, I wouldn't be surprised if he's married to that Griffen girl the second he's of age."

I fight the urge to laugh, Peeta and I just had this conversation.

"He would rather work in the mines than marry someone he doesn't love." I say dismissively.

Gale laughs, "Bread boy wouldn't last a day in those mines. If his mother has her way and he gets married, where does that leave you? Do you think his wife will allow you two to stay friends? You need to see how things are Katniss."

"Oh yeah? And just how are things Gale?" I ask enunciating his name, since he so rarely uses mine. Where the heck is this coming from?

"You're Seam and he's Merchant, you guys shouldn't have even started this weird friendship. If he wants to keep his cushy little life, he's gotta marry into a merchant family that he can take over the business of; everyone knows with him being the youngest boy he has no place in that bakery, you hanging around all the time isn't helping him."

I don't know what to think about this, sure, I knew this was a possibility; but after our conversation the other day I felt ok. I hadn't even thought about Peeta's future wife not wanting me around. The thought of him going along with that has me irrationally angry.

"Well, I guess I'll deal with things as they come. But if Peeta can just toss our friendship away because some woman told him to, then I guess I don't really know Peeta." I sigh angrily and stand up. I dust my pants off and look around, our walk to our ledge and aggravating conversation has only left us a little time before we have to get back to the district. Can't be late for reaping day.

We hunt for a bit and check the snares, and after we divide everything we both end up with three rabbits, four squirrels and a small pail full of berries.

Before we part ways at the fence Gale grabs me and pulls me into a hug, I tense at first but then relax and half heartedly return the gesture. "I'm sorry I'm such a jerk." He says patting my back and releasing me.

I snort, "Yeah, well I happen to like my Gales a little on the jerky side." I say slapping his shoulder, he grimaces and rubs the spot I hit.

"I'm being serious and you wound me. This is why I never apologize, it gets me nothing but grief." He says quirking a smile.

"No, you don't like apologizing because you never think you're wrong." I say seriously. "But thanks, I'll see you tonight. Big dinner?" Gale turned eighteen three months ago, if he makes it today he can stop worrying about the reaping- for himself at least, there is still Vick and Rory to worry about, Rory's first reaping is next year, as is Prim's. Which I don't like to think about. Thankfully, Posy has a few years ahead of her before there's any worry.

Gale nods, "Yep, last reaping. Mom is going overboard, I'm trying to stay realistic. There's forty-two slips of paper with my name on them." He looks away, my heart breaks for my friend. He may be gruff and rude, but he's always been there for me. And I don't know what to say to him.

"Gale," I start, my voice wobbly.

He cuts me off with a sad smile. "Happy Hunger Games, Catnip." He says solemnly.

"And may the odd be ever in your favor," I reply in kind. We used to be able to joke and use silly Capital accents, but today it just seems wrong.

I leave him at the fence, he was lost in thought, I think he wants to be alone for a while.

I run to the bakery as fast as I can, I'm running behind, I should have been here an hour ago. I clamor up the back stairs and knock lightly, you never know who is in the kitchen. The door opens and Mrs. Mellark is on the other side. I panic internally, she refuses to trade with me, and has told her husband to send me away a few times. She stares at me hard and I will myself not to whither under her harsh gaze. After a moment she rolls her eyes and leaves the doorway, I can see Mr. Mellark rolling out dough on the counter. He sees me out the corner of his eyes and flashes me a bright Peeta like smile.

"I was beginning to think you had a better offer for your squirrels!" He chirps wiping his hands off with a towel and walking to the door. "And what did you bring me today, hmm?" He asks rubbing his palms together. I'll never understand why he gets so excited over squirrel, surely they can afford fairer food?

I reach in my game bag and feel around for the fattest squirrel; I've tried to give him more than one as trade for the bread- one measly squirrel for a hearty loaf of bread hardly seems fair- but the one time I managed to get him to take two he slipped four cheese buns into the bag. So I try and give him the biggest one I've got. I pull the squirrel out and hand it to him, he weighs it in his hands. "He is a big fellow, perhaps you'll take a few cookies with you as well?" He states rather than asks because he's already back in the kitchen stuffing things into a white paper bag. It's best not to try and reason with him.

He returns with a suspiciously heavy looking bag. "Well, you just missed my boy, off making himself look fancy for today." He says with an over exaggerated wink, he is trying to be playful, but I see the sorrow in his ocean eyes.

"I best be on my way too, I'm running behind, my mother is probably wondering where I am by now. Thanks for the cookies," I wave and step down the stairs.

I run home as fast as my game bag will allow and almost plow into my mother upon entering my house. "Whoa, Katniss!" My mother says bracing herself using my shoulders. "We don't have much time, your bath is set up and I set a dress for you on the bed, you have to hurry." She says patting my cheek, I try not to jerk my head away. She is still trying to help, it seems like ever since she decided to wake up she's suffocating me. Trying to make up for those few months, but she is just a little bit too late. I don't need her anymore.

I don't say this of course, today isn't a day for a fight. I just don't have it in me. I nod and go to the bathroom, I quickly wash up and change into the last dress I own that fits me. It's a soft green with sleeves that stop just above my elbows and the hem reaches a few inches below my knees. I do my signature braid a fast as I can and find my mother and Prim in the living room.

We walk quickly to the square, the streets are thick with families, but we make it, I get checked in with a few minutes to spare.

Effie Trinket, district twelves new escort sashays across the stage in her blood red poofy dress with a design on the corset that resembles a skeleton and red sparkly high heeled shoes, her hair is in the same shade and piled high on her head with curls, a tiny hat on top. I'll never understand what passes for fashion in the Capital. After the obligatory video, about the Treaty of Treason, and the mayors speech, Effie steps up to the microphone.

"Welcome, welcome! Happy Hunger Games, and may the odds be ever in your favor! As always lets start with the ladies." She walks over to the bowl and dips her garish red tipped fingers in and pulls out a slip. "Our female tribute for the 73rd Hunger Games is... Alva Haven!" She announces clapping her hands like a giddy school girl.

Alva is Seam, but I don't know her. She can't be more than thirteen, she looks terrified. She makes it to the stage and Effie smiles at her. "And now for the boys!" She walks elegantly in her heels and plucks a piece of paper out, she reaches the microphone again and opens the paper. "George Wheatly!" She says cheerfully. There's a loud sob at the back of the crowd; George Wheatly is the only son, and child, of the shoe maker. Besides Peeta, he is the most well liked Merchant boy, I've seen him give Prim his cookie at lunch from time to time.

He crosses the gap from his roped off section to the stage stoically, his head held high. He shakes hands with Alva, Effie says a few words, but the only thing I can focus on is that Gale is safe, he doesn't have to live in fear for himself anymore. Alva and George are taken backstage and the children in the roped sections wonder back to their families.

I meet my mother and Hazel at the edge of the crowd. Hazel pulls me into a hug. "We'll see you tonight. Right?"

"Wouldn't miss it," I say squeezing her back. "But I might be a little late,"

"Yeah, her and Bread Boy have a standing pie baking date, ain't that right, Catnip?" Gale says clapping a hand on my back. I let go of Hazel and look at Gale, I can't tell if he is genuinely smiling or if it's sarcastic. But he doesn't add anymore.

"Something like that," I say giving him a strange look. Gale nods at me, throws his arm around his mothers shoulder and leads her and the kids back to The Seam.

"Gale is weird," Prim pipes up.

"Yeah, he even apologized about the way he's been acting." Prim gapes at me. "I know," I say sympathetically, and pat her on the head.

I tell my mother that I'll meet her and Prim at the Hawthrones before I go to the bakery to pick up Peeta. He knows about dinner at Gales so we duck into the forest as fast as we can.

"You know, Gale apologized to me this morning. Said he was being a jerk." I say after we reach a good berry bush. We should be able to get enough here.

"That's interesting," Peeta replies.

"It is, he never apologizes. I think this last reaping really got to him."

"Maybe he just understands that we don't really have the time to be a jerk over trivial things."

"I'm not defending him, but hating Merchants has been drilled into his head for years. If he can get over his ego, I think you guys could be friends."

Peeta laughs, "I somehow doubt that,"

"What do you mean?"

"Gale is a guy and you're a girl," he says scratching the back of his head.

"Thanks for the biology lesson, not sure how that equates to you two not being able to be friends."

"He, uh, it's- never mind. I don't know what I'm talking about. Let's get the berries back to the bakery, you don't want to be late to dinner." He says turning towards the fence.

"Okay," I say awkwardly, dropping the conversation. First Gale apologizes and now Peeta is tongue tied. Boys are weird.

The walk back to the bakery is quick and quiet, unsurprisingly. Mr. Mellark helps us as usual, he tells us stories from when he was younger and how he used to play jokes on the old seamstress. He would stretch out one arm longer than the other while being measured for a shirt and then make a scene when he picked up the shirt claiming that his arm was shrinking. His father was furious when he found out, but his mother thought it was funny. Now I know where Rye gets it from.

Once the pie is out of the oven and cooled I have a small slice, it wouldn't be tradition if I didn't. Rye even comes down and we end up getting into a small whipped cream scuffle. Mrs. Mellark is not amused.

I punch Rye's arm in my special goodbye, he pretends it hurts, our usual send off. "Night, night, Kitten!" He calls as Peeta and I walk to the door.

"Goodnight, Ryelan!" I yell back.

"Ouch! Peety, your girlfriend just full named me!"

Peeta's cheeks turn pink when Rye says this. "Anyway, I'll see you when I see you." Peeta says.

"Sure thing, Peety." I say ruffling his hair.

He groans, "Please don't call me that."

"Oh, boo." I say walking down the stairs. I turn and wave and make my way back to The Seam.

After dinner Vick brings out his fiddle and plays a few songs, I dance with Prim and twirl Posy around. I see Gale sitting on the steps of his porch smiling at Prim and Rory chasing each other, we always joke that one day those two will get married. I set Posy down and walk over to Gale and sit a step lower by his feet.

"He's not so bad I guess," Gale remarks quietly.

"Who?"

"Bread- Peeta. He's too nice really. I saw him practically carry Old Lady Mitchell after she fell in the square. All the other Merchants walked around her like they'd catch some Seam disease."

I beam internally. "That's Peeta," I shrug. "He doesn't see Seam or Merchant."

"Yeah," Gale replies wistfully. "I could try being nicer to him. You know, if you insist on bringing him around."

I look at him skeptically, "Yeah?" I ask.

"Sure, I've doled out plenty and he doesn't hand it back. He could have hit me a few dozen times by now- which I would have deserved- but he hasn't. He's alright, I guess."

I laugh a little, "That must have been very hard for you to say,"

Gale smiles, "Yeah, I might need some water to wash it down."

I bump his knee with my shoulder playfully. Boys are so weird.

...

It was a tough week while our tributes were a part of the Games. Alva had somehow got caught up with the boy from District 1, he made her believe that he fancied her the moment he saw her, got her to kill the boy from District 7 and then him and his District counterpart slit her throat.

We all thought George was going to make it home. He was going strong, he had found a water source, made a spear out of a sharp rock tied to a stick with vines. He was keeping himself well fed, his only kill was the boy from District 3; who tried to strangle him in his sleep. After grappling on the ground for a few minutes, George managed to stab the boy with the spear.

On day seven of the Games there are ten tributes left, George was hiking up to higher ground after a small flood when he lost his footing and rolled down a steep hill, his leg was broken and he was unable to move. He stayed at the bottom of the hill trying to crawl his way up for a day and a half, on the second night a pack of wild dogs had found him and attacked.

Two weeks after Alva and George's funerals the Harvest festival was in full swing, it is mainly geared toward the Merchants, but a few of the more well off Seam families attend. Peeta asked me to go, but I wouldn't socialize with that lot if I was paid.

Instead the Hawthrone's and my family chipped in on food and we had our own harvest party. It isn't fancy like the one being held in the square but it's warm and welcoming.

"Peeta's here!" Prim suddenly shouts, I turn my gaze away from Hazel and my mother laughing over a cup of tea and see Peeta entering our small back yard, he has a large box from the bakery in one hand and Prim under his other arm.

I rush over to take the box from him before Prim knocks it over in her excitement. "What are you doing here? Shouldn't you be with your family?" I ask, setting the box down on the table.

Peeta looks at me and then ruffles Prim's hair. "I am,"

...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So Gale was a jerk and Prim found Buttercup. 
> 
> I tried to be subtle in Katniss and Peeta feels (she doesn't understand what she's feeling yet and is obviously oblivious about Peeta) I hope I didn't load too much hidden mushy stuff on already.
> 
> And I had to have Gale sort of redeem himself, he is after all her lifetime friend, he needs to have some good qualities.
> 
> I hope you liked my version of Peeta's brother Rye, he was so fun to write. 
> 
> Next is their Games. A few twists, I hope you're ready!
> 
> Shoot me a review, tell me what you liked, didn't like or whatever.
> 
> Thanks for reading


	4. Chapter Three

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry, guys! I'm new here and I've been binge reading EVERYTHING- and I forgot that I'm slowly transferring my stuff here.
> 
> Anyway you'll notice a few changes, mostly what Delly's parents do for a living. The switch was accidental (I made them own the candy shop instead of shoe makers) but for some reason I never corrected it. Meh.
> 
> And Rye is back! Sigh. Did I mention he was my favorite? I love writing him.

**...**

**15 years old**

I arrive at mine and Gale's rock ledge about an hour before sunrise. I'm exhausted, I stayed up half the night holding Prim while we battled nightmares and tears. Her first reaping is in just a few hours and no amount of cuddling and soothing words could get her to sleep peacefully. A few hours after Prim had finally fallen asleep I decided to get up and go to the forest. I managed to trade some blackberries for a few batteries for the small flashlight we keep in the kitchen. I should be able to gather a few herbs to replace some in my mothers stock.

After gathering a little I made my way to our spot. Gale should be here soon and he'll want to start right away. Maybe he'll want a piece of the pie I bake with Peeta and his father. I shake my head, I don't really want to think of Peeta right now. We have one class together and the teacher decided to make us read lines from this old play called Romeo and Juliet.

She paired Peeta and I together and made a big production of each pair standing in front of the class. And as luck would have it- we got a kiss in our scene. When we got to that part Peeta grew flustered and awkwardly kissed my cheek. It seemed like I could still feel his lips on my skin hours later, they were surprisingly soft, and warm.

"Something wrong with your face, Catnip?" Gale asks, flopping down next to me. He lets out a long suffering groan when he stretches his legs out in front of him -the mines seem to be wearing his body already.- I hadn't even noticed I was rubbing the cheek Peeta had kissed a week ago, the kiss made my chest tight and my stomach floaty, making me angry at Peeta; I shouldn't be affected with feelings I don't understand, nor do I want to. I've got no time for silly things.

Besides, Peeta needs to find himself a proper girl. Someone like the candy makers daughter, Delly Cartwright- she's been sweet on Peeta for a while now. They don't come nicer than Delly. Or even Mayor Undersee's daughter, Madge. I've tried to steer him in their direction a few times, he usually laughs at me and changes the subject.

I put my hands in my lap and clear my throat. "No, just thinking."

Gale sighs sadly next to me. "I felt the same way when Vick's first reaping came around. I don't even know how my mother is going to handle today, Vick _and_ Rory are going to be in that square today."

"I was up all night with her, if she wasn't crying about herself she was hyperventilating over me."

"Twenty isn't so bad, Nip. I had forty-two at my last reaping."

I'm silent for a minute, not sure what else to say. It's a depressing day all around, I'd rather not spoil what little carefree time I have.

"And what of our feast?" I ask snatching Gale's bag. Once we started hunting together we would make a special breakfast on reaping days. Nothing fancy, just flat biscuits and jam Hazel made.

Gale smiles a soft smile and pulls out a cloth with two biscuits and a pot of jam. He opens it and dips his biscuit inside and hands it to me. The smell of fresh peaches wafts from the container. "Where did your mother get peaches?" I ask in awe. They're hard to come by in The Seam, even after the trains bring produce, the Merchants buy all of the good stuff before they hit the market, forget about finding this stuff at The Hob (The Seam's (illegal) version of the Merchant quarter, if you've got the means, you can trade for just about anything there, it's frowned upon, but the Peacekeepers usually don't mind; a few even spend their money there.) My question causes Gale's face to darken.

"Haymitch Abernathy. About a week ago some Capital lackey came and decided that his house keeping wasn't fit for a Victor. They asked around and everyone told the guy that my mom was the best laundress in District Twelve. She cleans his house, and he pays her in food. Not like he needs it, the lousy drunk. Spends all of his money on booze." Gale finishes, brushing his hands on his pants.

Haymitch Abernathy is District Twelves second and only living Victor. He spends most of his time holed up in his home in Victor's Village, usually piss drunk and sitting in his own filth. My mother says he wasn't always like the way he is now. He came from The Seam, had a family and was going to school. He came back from his Games different, and not too long after, his mother passed away. He's been drinking himself to death ever since.

"Is he nice to her?" I ask, already knowing the answer. Haymitch hasn't been known to be cruel, but drunks tend to have loose lips.

Gale makes a low growling noise, and looks to the top of the trees. "Her first day, he was so drunk he thought my mom was some girlfriend he had before the Games. She had to slap him to get him out of his hallucination. He hasn't done anything like that since,"

We're quiet after that; me, not knowing what to say to that, and Gale, not wanting to continue that line of conversation.

"We should leave," Gale says abruptly, startling me. I look at the position of the sun and guess that it's only closer to eight.

"It's still early, we have time."

"No, I meant we should leave. Pack up our moms and the kids and go. We could do it,"

Not this again- ever since he started working in the mines, this is a focal point of our conversations. I'm not against leaving, but one of us has to be practical.

"You know it would be impossible with everyone," I say hoping to close the topic.

"It wouldn't be different from what it is now, we'd just be in the woods."

"And you think our mothers want to live the rest of their lives wondering the forest? Could you imagine Peeta out here?"

Gale glares at me, but softens his features after a moment. "You'd ask Peeta and his family?"

I scrunch my forehead at his question. "Of course I'd ask, he's my friend."

Gale nods, accepting my answer for now.

We're quiet again, and my mind drifts back to Peeta. There's no way he'd come with us if we decided to go for it. I've taught him a lot, but there's still a lot I don't even know. And as much as his relationship with his mother is strained, I don't see him leaving his parents, especially his father. No, Peeta needs to stay. Find a wife who will love him and take care of him.

"I never want to get married," the words tumble out.

Gale looks at me from the corner of his eye. "And what about Peeta?"

I look at him, confused, what does Peeta have to do with me not wanting to get married?

"What if- what if Peeta wanted to court you?" There's something along with his voice that I can't place, he doesn't look at me as he asks the question.

His behavior doesn't stop the laughter from bubbling up and erupting. "That's ridiculous," I pant once my laughter has died down.

Gale doesn't respond, he just shakes his head. He helps me stand and we silently head back into the thick of the woods. Checking snares along the way. We manage to get a few squirrels, and decide to head back so we have time to stop at the Mellark's before I have to get ready for the reaping.

Since Gale said he would try and be nicer to Peeta I've taken him with me a few times to the bakery so he could trade with Mr. Mellark. He goes on his own sometimes, but it's usually quicker if we just go together.

With almost everyone still in bed it's a quick journey to the Merchant side of the District, we don't even run into Peacekeers. I knock of the back door and step back, already hearing someone shuffling around in the kitchen. The door swings open to reveal Rye on the other side. His eyes gleam and he leans against the door frame, crossing his arms over his chest; a mischievous smirk on his face. "Hey there, Kitty Cat. What's got you a callin' so early?"

"Well, my day isn't complete until I get a chance to see you. Has your rash cleared up yet?" I ask snickering.

Rye doesn't seem fazed, "As a matter of fact it does look better, want to see?" He asks reaching for his pants.

"No! No, no. Don't to that." I say reaching out and stopping his hands. I glance at Gale, who isn't used to Rye, but doesn't seem to be too bothered. I'm sure I'll hear about it later.

Rye laughs and resumes his stance in the door frame. "Oh Kitten, you're too easy." He turns his head back into the kitchen. "Peet! Katniss is here!" He turns back to me and winks and says, "Good to see you, Hawthorne." Before turning back into the warmth of the bakery. Gale chuckles, but turns it into a cough when I look up at him.

"What?" He asks with feigned innocence.

"We're you just going to let him open his pants?" I ask incredulously.

"I knew he was joking." Gale says with a shrug.

I don't get a chance to reply because Peeta is at the door, looking like he just woke up, but still offers me a smile so bright it would make the sun jealous. I notice it dims slightly when he sees Gale is with me. He was suspicious when I told him that Gale said he would try to be nicer. He's not fully convinced this isn't a long con that ends up with him being hung up in the woods somewhere.

"Hey Katniss, Gale, my dad should be down soon. You want to come in?"

I shake my head. "No thanks, I still have to get home and get ready."

Peeta nods in understanding. "You still coming over after the reaping?" I almost roll my eyes. Every year with go through this. Every year.

"Don't I always?" I say with a smile.

"And uh, Gale, you're welcome to join us."

"Thanks, but my mom is going to need help with supper." Gale politely declines.

There's footfalls on the stairs behind Peeta, and soon Mr. Mellark makes his way into the kitchen.

"Oh, wonderful! My squirrels are here!" I will still never understand this mans obsession with squirrel.

He stands before us and we dig out a squirrel each and hand them over.

"Well, these will make excellent stew! I'll be right back." Mr. Mellark said and then disappeared back in the bakery.

"I don't understand why he likes squirrel so much," Gale whispered next to me.

"I wonder that all the time." I said just as Mr. Mellark came back with two white bags.

"There you go! Katniss-" Mr. Mellark paused and looked behind him. "I put two cookies in your bag, I know your sister must be worried. My boys always felt better after a reaping when they had a sugar cookie."

I nod my thanks, and Gale and I step down the stairs.

"We'll see you later then?" Mr. Mellark calls after me. I turn and smile at him.

"Just like last year, and the year before that, and the-"

"Alright, child. Get out of here." He says shooing us away with a smile on his face.

...

Once I get to my house my mother has shoved me into our small bathroom to wash, we don't have much time.

"I could help you wash your hair?" My mother asks, playing with her sleeve. She had been trying to back off a little, she'd started to smother me after she came out of her depression. Now she fidgets when she offers to help me.

I only nod in acceptance, not having the energy to argue; and she tends to rub my scalp when she washes my hair, that sounds nice right now.

After I'm clean my mother brings in a dress, one I have only seen her wear once before. I slip it on and turn toward that mirror. It's blue, with sleeves that end just above my elbow and the hem falls just below my knees. I turn to my mother, the question clear on my face. Ever since she was disowned by her Merchant parents for marrying my father, her finer clothes had been kept in a trunk, her memories tied to them painful.

"I want you to wear it, every girl deserves to feel beautiful." She says reaching out and touching a strand of my hair. I look back at my reflection, I do feel beautiful; the soft fabric, although a few years old is still in good condition. The shape of the dress creates the allusion of curves that aren't there, the periwinkle bringing out the steel grey of my eyes.

"Would you like me to fix your hair?" My mother asks timidly. I look at her in the mirror.

"Is Prim ready?"

"Yes, I put lunch on the table while you were bathing."

I nod at her and sit on the bed, giving her room to sit behind me. She pads over and softly sits next to me and gets the brush from the small table. She gently runs the bristles through my tangles, messaging my scalp. She begins weaving an intricate braid, and by the time she is finished I realize I almost had fallen asleep.

"I'm sorry Prim kept you up, but she didn't want to come to my bed."

I so badly want to snap at her, but I remind myself that today is hard on her too.

"I'll be fine," I say shrugging off her hands and leaving the room.

Prim sits at our small table, eating a biscuit and cheese. She takes small bites and quietly chews while staring at the table.

"Are you ready, Duck?" I ask from the door smoothing the front of my dress. Prim's eyes flicker to meet mine before descending to the table top, the movement was quick, but I could still see the glistening of tears. I stride over to her chair and crouch down at her side. "Everything is going to be fine, Prim. It's only one piece of paper, we'll be picking berries and baking pies before you know it." Prim takes a fast, shuddering breath.

"But what about you? You have so many!" She says throwing herself in to my arms.

I wrap my arms around her tightly. "We'll figure it out; besides, there isn't anything I wouldn't do to come home to you." I whisper, giving her a little squeeze.

She pulls away and looks hard into my eyes. "Promise," she demands.

I smile sadly at her, "I promise."

...

I always seem to forget how hot the square gets on reaping day, with all the extra bodies corralled into sections by age. It's sweltering, Prim's face has flushed and the little hairs poking from her braid stick to her neck.

Before we get to the tables for signing in I pull her aside. "All you have to do is tell them your name, they'll prick your finger and you go to your square. As soon as this is over, you find mom as quickly as you can, and I'll meet you by the bakery." Prim's eyes had been locked on mine the moment I crouched down to her level, her beautiful blue irises are dull with fear, and the skin around her eyes is still puffy from her short cry on our walk to the square. "C'mon Duck, it's time to be brave." I take her hand and lead her to the tables.

Prim did well with the quick blood draw, I escort her to the twelve year section and gave her one last hug. Now standing in the sixteen section, I look across the small isle and immediately find Peeta, his corn silk hair a bright beacon of light.

He must sense my gaze, he turns his head towards me and gives a halfhearted smile.

"You ok?" I mouth silently, only receiving a terse nod in reply.

I look to the back where the families are and spot Gale, Hazel, Posy and my mother. Gale gives a slight nod, Hazel a warm smile, and my mother is wringing her hands to a point it looks like her fingers may fall off. A loud static noise fills the air as the mayor, District Twelves escort, Effie Trinket; who unsurprisingly, is wearing quite the outrageous outfit. A long neon green skirt hides her feet, a blouse of the same color with flowing sleeves that reach almost to the tips of fingers and excess fabric that falls to the floor from the wrist, the collar of the shirt is sticking up and is high enough to almost reach the top of her head. The crowing jewel of the ensemble is a gold birdcage, with a live canary flying around.- How fitting, a canary in a coal mining town. Is the symbolism lost on her? Canaries are taken into the mines as an alarm system of sorts, if they stop singing, you should have already been out. And she, who escorts children to certain death, wears one on her head? It makes me feel ill.-And a noticeably cleaner version of Haymitch Abernathy take the stage.

The mayor gives the required speech of the history of Panem; it was once called North America, but wars, disasters and rebellion shaped it into what we know now as Panem; a strong Capital, nestled in the middle of thirteen Districts. The Capital brought peace and prosperity to the people. And then came the Dark Days, the revolt of the thirteen Districts. Twelve were brought back under control and the thirteenth was blown off the map.

The Treaty of Treason brought new laws and the Hunger Games, a yearly reminder that the uprisings must never happen again.

As punishment for the uprising each of the twelve districts must offer up one boy and one girl, known as Tributes to participate. The twenty four tributes will be held captive in an arena, with any kind of environment- a harsh desert to a bleak frozen tundra- lasting for several weeks. The Tributes are forced to survive harsh conditions, other Tributes, who, although not required, often kill other Tributes to speed things along.

Rules state that any number of Tributes may win, from multiple Districts, "survival through unity and generous gifts from Capital citizens." But the Capital never allows it. You can't give the Districts too much hope. The Games end when all obstacles are defeated and/or one Tribute remains.

The Games are held as a spectacular sporting event by the Capital, in the Career Districts (One, Two, and Four) to be chosen is an honor and to volunteer brings great pride to the families.

When he is finished he turns the microphone over to Effie, who takes short strides as her skirt is very constricting. "Hello, hello! Happy Hunger Games! And may the odds be ever in your favor!" She trills in that wonderfully annoying Capital accent; sometimes when we have tea in the house, Prim and I pretend to be snobby Capital people with put on accents, it makes her laugh so much she can hardly drink her tea.

"As always, ladies first!" She steps away from the microphone and scuttles to the large glass bowl of papers, twenty of which have my name scrawled on them.

She digs her hand in, making a show of swirling the slips around.

One out of a thousand. Prim will be safe.

Satisfied with the one she's chosen she makes her way back to the podium and carefully unfolds the paper. I suck in a deep breath as she leans into the microphone.

"Primrose Everdeen!" She squeals, clapping her hands.

There was one time when I was thirteen when the electric fence surrounding the District had been turned on. I had been in too big of a hurry to meet Gale that I didn't stop and listen for the dangerous humming. I reached for the fence to separate it from the post and was immediately jolted back a few feet, landing on my back. My mother doesn't know how I survived.

But I remember my hands vibrating with the power surging through the wires, the heat traveling up my arms and seizing my heart.

And that is what I'm feeling now, I can feel the other girls staring at me, looks of pity and horror. Twelves were hardly chosen, and when they were it seemed that much more cruel.

I almost miss Prim passing my section before I bolt into action. I push girls out of my way and stumble over the ropes, sprinting I grab my sister and shove her behind me.

"I volunteer! Please!" I scream. "I volunteer as Tribute!" I finish in a calmer tone.

"Katniss!" Prim screeches behind me, tugging on the back of my dress. "No, no, no!" She shouts pulling me back. Suddenly her grip is gone, and Gale has picked her up. His eyes are sad, but I can still see the pride beneath it.

"Go on, Catnip, I've got her." I nod and walk to the stage on hollow legs.

"A volunteer! How marvelous! What's your name, dear?" Effie asks as she thrusts the microphone in my face.

Aware of the cameras, I stand tall and make my face blank. "Katniss Everdeen," I say, my voice a lot stronger than I feel.

"Oh my! I bet this pretty bird that that was your sister." She says almost giddily. I don't really blame her, District Twelve is the smallest of all and our reapings are uneventful, this will probably be the most exciting thing she'll witness in her career as District Twelve's escort.

I nod my head in confirmation. Sending Effie into another round of hysterics. "Oh wonderful!" She says gleefully, and then sighs. "Well we mustn't let you have all the glory, let's find out who your District counterpart is!" She practically glides over to the other bowl, picking the first slip her fingers come in contact with, she bounces back unfolding the paper as she walks.

"Roger Halpert! Where are you, Roger dear?" She puts a hand to her brow to block out the sun and scans the crowd. A small boy from The Seam makes his way to the isle, no older than thirteen, he is very skinny and walks as if one leg is shorter than the other. As much as I feel bad for Roger I am tremendously relieved that Peeta, Vick and Rory have been spared another year.

Roger is almost to the stage when a familiar voice calls out, "I volunteer!"

My heart stops as Peeta steps up to the boy and places a gentle hand on his shoulder, Roger sags with relief, and his mother runs and gathers him in her arms, sobbing her thanks in Peeta's direction.

This can't be happening, he was supposed to be ok. Why is he doing his? So many emotions are raging inside of me. Pride, for allowing that small boy at least one more year, sadness because I know Peeta can't kill, and anger, how dare he throw his life away!

"My goodness, another volunteer! Please tell me your name, young man."

"Peeta Mellark," he replies in an unwavering voice, staring down the crowd.

I look over to the people by the bakery and see his father and brothers, his mothers face shows grief, but she sheds no tears. His father is openly weeping, his left hand covers his mouth. Rye and Bram stare at the ground, jaws locked.

"Outstanding! Please shake hands, and we'll be on our way!"

Peeta and I turn to one another and claps hands. His hands haven't changed much from when we were children, just grown larger.

Suddenly, I remember his small hands giving me bread.

It had been three days since there had been food in our home, I was walking around the Merchant quarter trying to sell or trade some mittens my mother had made before my father died, they were uneven and moths had gotten to a few. No one wanted them. I had some how- on my way home- managed to find my way behind a few businesses, being in my weakened state I slipped and fell, landing on the edge of concrete steps. The sound of my painful cry alerting the owner of the shop I was behind. Unfortunately for me, it was Mellark's bakery.

The door opened to reveal the angry face of Mrs. Mellark, upon seeing me laying at the bottom of her stairs she started screaming, telling me to get away before I scared away respectable paying customers. Standing up, I noticed a boy standing behind her, her son, Peeta. I've seen him around school but never spoken to him. I mumbled an apology and stumbled away from the steps, only making it as far as the scraggly apple tree a few feet away from the door.

After a few minutes of trying to gather my strength there was a loud clatter and shout from the bakery kitchen. The door was thrown open and Mrs. Mellark shoved Peeta down the steps.

"Give it to the pigs you disgraceful boy! No one will buy that now!" She shouted slamming the door. Peeta looked at the door and then looked at me. His small face had already started to swell where her hands had struck him.

He ran to me and knelt on his knees, opening my thin jacket, he pressed the two loaves of burnt bread into my torso. "I'm sorry I burnt it so much," he said closing and buttoning my coat. "But I had to make sure it couldn't be sold." He sat there looking into my eyes for what seemed like forever before he smiled and stood. I quickly snatched his hand to stop him from standing fully.

"Wait!" I whispered, swallowing what little saliva I had, my voice was rough with exhaustion and dehydration. "Thank you,"

Peeta's smile brightened and he helped me to stand. With a newfound strength I ran home. The still warm loaves keeping me warm.

The joy in Prim's face when she seen the bread had almost ensured that I gave her at least half of the first loaf.

The gentle squeeze of my hand brings me back to the present. I'm not a starving girl anymore and Peeta is still watching over me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well now you know why I changed Gale's age, I didn't want his stupid butt thinking he could swoop in on a black stallion and take the glory from Peeta. I like Gale, he's like my imaginary asshole brother I like to give a hard time.
> 
> I'm not sure why, but Mr. Mellark's voice in my head sounds Dutch. He's just so happy and cheery.
> 
> Well Peeta was a BAMF in this chapter and volunteered. Any thoughts?


	5. Chapter Four

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Saying goodbye

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I decided to treat you guys by updating again! I logged on to 3 new reviews and 2 new kudos! So this chapter is for you, you beautiful bastards. 
> 
> Also I'm incredibly inappropriate. If we want this relationship to work, you have to ignore just about everything I say. *tips hat*

The Anthem starts blaring through the speakers, Peeta still holds my hand. Effie gives the less than enthusiastic crowd one last smile and wave before the curtain opens and we are practically shoved inside the Justice Building.

Peeta squeezes my hand, most likely in the hopes I'll look at him. _Good luck with that, bread boy. I'm going to stay mad at you until we get to the Capital_. I keep my eyes straight in front of me. I know if I even catch a glimpse of his sad eyes I'll cave- he knows it's my weakness, it's how he gets away with every annoying thing his does- my brain is racing with thoughts. How could he do this? Doesn't he know we won't be coming home? Why would he risk everything to volunteer with me? This is the stupidest, insane, _kindest thing_ he has ever done. But that doesn't mean I have to be happy about it.

A Peacekeeper puts a hand on Peeta's shoulder. "This is where you'll wait for your family, Peeta." He says almost regretfully. Peeta has always been well liked, even with the authority figures of the District.

Peeta nods and turns to me, I know it's childish, but I turn my face the other way. Peeta sighs and wraps me up in a tight hug. "I'm sorry," he whispers into my hair. I'm not really sure what he's sorry for, but I'll take it.

I finally put my arms around him and squeeze him just as tightly. "Me too," I say.

The Peacekeeper clears his throat and Peeta pulls away and steps into the door without looking at me.

"Come along dear, we mustn't be late for the train, I'm sure you'll have lots of visitors wishing you luck!" Effie trills.

I nod and follow the Peacekeeper deeper into the hallway. A door is opened and I step inside. The room isn't large, but with only a small couch and chair it appears to be quite spacious, the curtains are drawn, letting natural light in, District Twelve is not known for having reliable electricity. It's a bit musty, and the couch has seen better days.

The door opens and a flash of golden hair lunges at me before I get a chance to stand. Prim sits curled in my lap, her face buried in my shoulder, her loud strangled cries are the only sound in the room. I rub circles on her back while stroking her braids. My mother sits in the chair across from us, wringing her hands, trying to blink back tears.

I don't know how long we sit like this, in silence, but I know I don't have much time. I clear my throat. "You can't leave her," I say out loud. My mother jumps at my sudden voice. She looks down at her hands.

"I know, I-" she starts, but I cut her off.

"I mean it, I'm not going to be there to make sure she gets fed. If you leave again, she'll die." My mother never physically left, you know, but she retreated so deep within her self it was like she was gone. I don't even want to count the many nights I would scream in her face, only for her to never even bat an eye. But I instantly feel bad for saying that when that brings around a fresh wave of tears from Prim.

"I know it was bad for a while," I snort, "but, if I had a proper doctor and the herbs I take now..." She trails off, her eyes darting around the room nervously. I know what she doesn't want to say; if Hazel hadn't finally put her foot down and dragged my mother out of the house, thrown her in a tub of cold water in the front yard, and taken what precious extra money she had saved and took my mother to the Merchant doctor (and awkwardly, my mothers brother) and demanded she be seen, my mother would either still be in bed, or been long dead by now. But I guess I can give my mother credit for actually taken her medicine every morning, at least she cares enough to do that.

"I know," I offer. "But you have to promise me you won't disappear, you have to take your medicine and be there for Prim."

She meets my gaze and I can see the determination in her eyes. "I promise you, Katniss, you don't have to worry about her anymore." I try so hard not to roll my eyes, I'll always worry over Prim. I spent the last five years mothering her, whether my mother was consciously there or not.

I simply nod instead. I look down at the top of Prim's head and press a quick kiss to her crown. "Listen to me, Prim. I need you to be strong for me ok?" I ask pulling her away so she can see my face. Her large blue eyes still glassy with tears. "You and mom have to work together. You can take Vick and Rory into the meadow and gather. You're smart, I know you've read moms book of herbs more than I have. I know Gale will give you extra meat when he can. Can you do that for me?" I ask wiping away her tears.

"Yes," she says, her voice is hoarse from crying. "you have to come home. You and Peeta can do it, Katniss. I know it,"

"I'll try," I say quietly.

"I love you," she says burrowing back into me. I squeeze her tightly.

"I love you too," I look to my mother, "both of you." I finish. My mothers face crumbles and she stands from her seat and crouches in front of us and folds her arms around Prim and I, I place my free hand on her shoulder.

The door is thrust open and two Peacekeepers grab them by the arms and haul them to the door. Prim is shouting and thrashing in their hands. My mother is shouting that she loves me.

"I love you too!" I manage to get out before the door is slammed shut. I plop back on the couch and wait for the peacekeepers to come and collect me for the train. I make a vow to try harder with my mother if I ever make it home.

The door is opened once more and I stand and flatten the front of my dress and prepare myself to be escorted from the room. I look to the door and am stunned to see Rye Mellark being ushered through.

I sit back down, too shocked and confused on what to do. Why would Rye see me? Shouldn't he be with Peeta?

"Hey sweet cheeks, happy to see me?" He says with a lazy grin. He sits quietly for several moments in front of me. "We both know Peety isn't capable of killing anyone, Katniss." He says looking down at his fingers.

I quirk an eyebrow, "And you think I am?" I ask slightly offended .

"I think we both know you'd do more than that if it meant keeping Prim safe." He says finally looking at me. "You're strong, but I worry about Peeta. He's the kind of kid who would rush to pick up a spider to save it from my dads boot; he worked the candy shop when Mrs. Cartwright had the flu last summer and when Mr. Cartwright broke his leg a few years ago- for free - He let my mom hit him with that rolling pin to make sure you didn't go hungry." I gasp, I didn't think anyone knew about that. Rye nods, "I watched him give it to you. My point is, I'm afraid he won't come home, but if he sticks with you, he'll have a chance."

I clear my throat. "I don't think you give him enough credit. He did beat you in that wrestling match last year." I say trying to lighten the mood.

Rye chuckles, "Nah, I let him. A certain girl was there that I knew he wanted to impress." He says, laughing once more.

A sudden jolt of jealousy shoots through me. Why wouldn't Peeta tell me he liked someone? Didn't he think I would I have been happy for him?

"He loves you," Rye says, once again speaking to his hands.

"I love him too," I say as if it were obvious.

Rye looks at me sharply, I feel pinned to the seat. "No, Katniss. My brother is in love with you. He's loved you longer than he knew what it meant to love someone. Just think about that, ok?" He stands and walks to the door. "And uh, I'll keep an eye on Prim. Sneak her some cookies, maybe just funnel some sugar in her, whatever it is that little girls like." He says awkwardly scratching the back of his neck.

"Thank you," I say. Rye doesn't move, and I feel sad that this might be the last time I see him. I stand from the couch and cross the room to him and throw my arms around his shoulders, and hug the brother I never had. He's crass on the best of days, but Rye has never been less than kind toward me.

He holds me tightly for a few seconds and then pulls away. "Alright, that's enough. You can't just go throwing yourself at me like that all the time. People are starting to talk."

"I think it's about the pimple on the end of your nose," I say tweaking the aforementioned appendage, glad for the distraction of heavy emotions I have no interest in feeling.

He smiles and pats the top of my head. "Well, Kitten, nice knowing you. Don't die alright?" He says with false humor.

"I'll do my best, Ryland." I say with a subtle nod. He gives me one last sad smile and exits the room.

It seems as soon as the door closes it is opened again, and Gale come striding through. I don't even realize how, but suddenly I'm caught up in his arms, and he is squeezing me tight. I have never felt more than brotherly affections towards Gale, and I doubt I'll start anytime soon; and though I have never been much of a hugger (excluding Prim and Peeta) I have occasionally sought comfort in Gale's arms. I've watched these arms climb trees, I've seen these arms pull back an arrow and hit the mark every time. These arms symbolize strength, and I feel safe here.

Gale pulls away, "Look, you need to get yourself armed, some of those kids are going to be vicious. Get a weapon, preferably a bow, and get somewhere safe."

"I haven't seen a bow in the arena in years,"

"Make one, anything is better than nothing. You can do this, it's like hunting."

I shake my head and step away from him. "They're children, Gale. It's not required to kill to get home."

Gale moves back into my space and takes my head in both of his hands and stares at me hard. "Do you think that stops them? Do you think they'll think twice if you're standing in their way of going home? If Prim where in there with you, you would do whatever it took to get her out of there."

"You sound like Rye," I say with a chuckle.

"Stop making jokes, Catnip."

"I can't kill people Gale," I can feel the pressure build up behind my eyes, I can't lose control now.

"You might not have a choice. Kill, don't kill, but don't give anyone the upper hand. You're fast, you can make traps, do what we've been doing our whole lives."

There are loud footsteps coming down the hall, it can't be time for him to leave yet, he just got here! The door is opened and two Peacekeepers grab onto Gale's arms, he thrashes and breaks free. He cups my face and places a gentle kiss on my forehead. "Katniss, I-"

-WHAM-

A Peacekeeper slams the butt of his gun into Gale's back and he drops to the floor, they pick him up and start carrying him out of the room. I don't know who is screaming louder, him or me, but the door is finally slammed shut.

I flop on the couch, hoping he was my last visitor, I don't think I could handle anymore.

The door opens and Madge Undersee timidly shuffles into the room and sits on the couch next to me, she doesn't look at me, or even acknowledge my existence in the tiny room; she just stares at her closed fist. I open and close my mouth a few times, attempting to speak.

I don't really know Madge, I know that she is the mayor's daughter, and sometimes if Gale and I gather extra strawberries her father likes to buy them. I know she is very polite, and will sometimes sit at the same table as me during lunch, there is never conversation, just silent companionship. But I am honestly mystified as to why she would come see me.

She shifts in her seat and clears her throat. "This belonged to my mother, it's a Mockingjay. It uh, it reminds me of you." She looks at me, her clear blue eyes boring into mine. "They allow you a token, I want you to keep this with you, for luck." She takes my hand and presses the gold pin into my palm. It's a depiction of a bird in flight encircled in gold.

It's funny how things seem to come back to birds. We use canaries for mines, and the Mockingjay is a joke on the Capital. Many years ago, before the Dark Days, the Capital had Jabberjay's all over the country. They could memorize long sentences and repeat them to the Capital. if you had a conversation outside, chances are a Jabberjay was listening.

But the funny part was when the citizens caught on and began to feed the Capital false information, the Jabberjay's, all being male, were released to die off; the Capital never expecting them to be able to mate with female mocking bids; thus creating the Mockingjay. A preverbal slap to the face of the Capital, they tend to not like it when things that should die, don't.

Holding the pin in my hand, knowing what it means, I feel unworthy. "I can't accept this, Madge." I say trying to hand it back to her. She stubbornly crosses her arms, and shifts away from me slightly.

"I know we aren't really friends, but I want to do this for you. Please just take it."

I nod my head, not trusting my self to slip into tears.

She stands gracefully and walks to the door. "I'll see you when you get home. Maybe we can be proper friends then, yeah?" She asks with a smile, I try to return it. She opens the door and leaves. I stick the pin to my dress and wait.

The door is opened again, and Mr. Mellark come in. We stand five feet away from each other, and he sets a white bag on the couch. "I brought you some cheese buns, Peeta says they're your favorite."

"Thank you," my voice cracks.

He finally looks at me and I'm taken aback by his puffy and red eyes. He takes a step toward me and hesitantly hugs me, and pulls back quickly. "I'll keep an eye on your sister. Leave some bread for her."

Again, I can only nod my head. I have so many people promising to keep watch over Prim, I could cry in relief. She'll be ok.

"Ok," Mr. Mellark says and steps back to the door. "Did I ever tell you that I hate squirrel?"

My eyes snap to meet his. "No, you didn't." Where is this coming from?

"I would trade your dad when he had bigger game, and when he passed," he sighs, "I promised, out of respect for him, that I would trade with whatever you could give me. And when my Peeta took a shine to you, I knew I could never turn you away." He smiles and pats my cheek, then he opens the door and leaves.

I don't have time to reflect on the things Rye and Mr. Mellark said about Peeta and I, because finally the Peacekeepers come and collect me, I barely manage to grab the white bag of cheese buns. I am taken back down the long hallway, but turn left at the end to exit a side door. It's a short walk to the train station.

Peeta and Effie are already there, she is smiling and waving for the many cameras, while Peeta stands there rigid looking straight ahead. With all of these cameras I'm glad I didn't cry; and I'm thankful Peeta seems to be keeping it together, he has such a sensitive heart, I don't want him to look weak to the other Tributes.

I take my place next to Peeta and look out over the crowd. It's a requirement for the whole district to see off the Tributes at the train station.

"Come along, the train is ready." Effie squawks next to me. "Wave goodbye so we can be on our way."

Peet and I manage to raise our hands and give a small wave. In a strangely synchronized move _the crowd touches the three middle fingers of their left hand to their lips and holds it out to me. It is an old and rarely used gesture of our district, occasionally seen at funerals. It means thanks, it means admiration, it means good-bye to someone you love_.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Italics at the end have been shamelessly copied from the original text. Forgive me, Collins!
> 
> Rye is still my favorite. But I can't wait to get my hands on Finnick *hehe*
> 
> And Gale tried to ride his noble steed in and sweep Katniss off her feet, but I can't and won't have that nonsense! Haha.
> 
> Whelp, Rye spilled the beans. But at least she knows. Will she do anything about it? What do you think?
> 
> What did you think of Mr. Mellark's confession?


	6. Chapter Five

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Katniss decides to give Peeta a piece of her mind, but quickly folds under the gaze of his baby blues
> 
> Effie is best friends with a bird
> 
> Everyone loves Peeta
> 
> Haymitch is in full sass mode

...

Effie turns to the open train door and beckons us inside, telling us we must stay on schedule.

Peeta takes my hand again, but I pointedly look anywhere but at him. The main car we are in appears to be a dinning and sitting room. The table is a long, rich dark wood, with colorful flower center pieces. The carpet feels so soft beneath my feet, like I could get lost in it. There are fluffy looking chairs, with silky fabric the color of Prim's pink cheeks on a cold day. This car is beautiful, and entirely upsetting, perhaps the Capital wishes to make our last days more pleasant; highly doubtful.

Effie excitedly claps her hands, successfully bringing me out of my inquisitive glare around the room. "Come along, darlings! Let me show you to your rooms, I'm sure you'll want to freshen up for dinner." Effie comments, barely holding back her look of contempt at our clothes. I let the comment slide, I have more important things to be upset over, than Effie's ignorant opinions on how we should dress in District Twelve.

She takes us down a narrow hallway, by any means no less extravagant than the car we were just in. She stops at the first door on the right and pushes it open. "Here you are, Peeta dear. I'll collect you for dinner." She says smiling brightly. Peeta squeezes my hand and then disappears into the empty room.

"Right this way dear, your room is right next to mine. It'll be so nice to have girl talk, don't you think?" She asks with such a hopeful tone, I almost feel bad for thinking ill of her. Almost.

"Sounds wonderful Effie, perhaps we can braid each other's hair and gossip about the help."

"Oh that does sound nice!" Effie squeals. I try not to flinch at the high pitch tone of her voice. "Here we are, there is a marvelous bathroom to the right, if you feel like showering. There are clothes in the closet, and with your cute little body, I'm sure everything will fit perfectly." I have a snarky retort on the tip of my tongue, I'm not thin by choice, if I had the means I wouldn't mind stuffing my face all day. But I simply nod and enter the room.

The room is impressive, for this being a room on a train the size is unbelievable, it must be bigger than our kitchen at home! And the bed! My mother, Prim, myself and that mangy cat could all fit in this bed comfortably.

I decide to forgo the shower, and wait until morning. But as pretty as my mothers dress is, it's not the most comfortable thing I've worn. I open the closet and pull out the first shirt I find, it's a burnt orange- almost like the sunset, and Peeta's favorite color- flowy tank top; the pants are dark brown and fitted well in the legs. After dressing I decide it's time to talk to Peeta, not that there's anything I can do about it now, but I'm going to tell him just how stupid he is.

I walk quickly to his room and knock, I hear him shuffle around before he opens the door. He has changed too, his shirt is a more casual black t-shirt, and he has dark jeans. I try to glare at him as hard as I can. His eyes widen, and his Adam's apple bobs as he swallows. "Hey, K-Katniss."

I breeze passed him and sit on the edge of his bed. "We need to talk," I say shortly. I see Peeta nod and shuffle to the bed, he slowly lowers himself next to me.

"Alright," he says awkwardly.

"Just what the hell were you thinking today?!" I shout at him, standing up and beginning to pace the room.

"I was thinking I was saving that kid, and that I might be able to help my friend!" He says loudly from the bed.

"I didn't ask you to help me Peeta! You should have stayed home, your brothers need you."

Peeta stands and crosses over to me, putting his hand on my shoulder stilling my movement. "You know they don't Katniss, they never needed me; and once I'm of age, I have no place there." He says looking at me, with an unreadable expression.

"All the more reason to stay, you could court Delly, and take over her parents shop. You're throwing your life away, Peeta, don't you see that?" I argue once more.

"Again with the trying to marry me off? I'm beginning to think you don't like spending time with me." Peeta says with a goofy smile.

"Stop joking," I scold, trying to hold back my own smile. "You know we aren't going home right? Twelve never wins, and a multiple Victor crowing hasn't happened in forty years." I say seriously, it really was hard to argue with Peeta, in the same way it's hard to scold a puppy. It's just isn't done easily.

"Well, then I say it's time for a change."

"I wish I had your confidence," I say with a laugh.

"No reason why you can't, with your hunting skills, and my bread making skills, I'd says were a force to be reckoned with. If there's a bow and a kitchen, everyone better watch out." Damn him always being so funny.

"What the heck would I do without you?" I say smiling at him.

"Probably frown a lot more," he says thoughtfully.

"Knock, knock! Dinner is about to be served!" Effie's chipper voice trickled through the closed door.

We walk down the long hallway a few minutes later, Peeta a few paces behind me. Effie's hushed voice stops me, I peek around the corner; Effie sits at the table, a clear rectangular piece of plastic in her hands. There's a projected image of what looks like a talking bird coming from the rectangle. The person has flowing red feathered hair, the eyelashes impossibly long and full, they flutter with the slightest moment. Below the piercing green eyes lies a beak; it looks to have been surgically added to the face, I can see the persons real lips and nose inside when they open the beak. By the tone of voice I can assume it's a woman. "Oh my dear, you must tell me more!" The bird lady tweets, her voice is almost musical.

Effie giggles, "You know I can't tell you everything, Polly, you'll have to wait for the recap this evening. I will tell you that my Tributes will move you to tears." She says, her voice cracking just a bit, I almost believe she cares.

"Perhaps you'll have Victors this year?"

"Oh, I have almost absolutely no doubt about that. Just," she sighs dramatically, "watch the recap, they were splendid." She finishes clutching her chest.

I take Peeta's hand and enter the dinning cart, cutting off Polly's reply.

"I've got to go dear, my Tributes are here for dinner."

"Oh! Show them to me! Show them-"

"Good bye darling!" Effie says disconnecting the conversation. She puts the piece of plastic down and smiles at us. "Sorry about that dearies, Polly has always been one for gossip." I suppress the laugh that tries to bubble up with a cough; knowing that Effie agreed to gossip about the help not more than an hour ago. "Oh dear, are you alright?" Effie asks patting me on the back, I risk a glance at Peeta, he just looks confused. Which makes me cough harder. "Here, have some water." Effie says shoving a glass of water in my hand. I stifle my coughing and gulp the water down.

"Where's Haymitch?" Peeta asks taking Effie's attention off me.

"Probably getting drunk in his room." She says waving her hand in the general direction of his room.

"He does do that a lot," I say wit a frown.

"Never mind him, dear, look at this scrumptious food." She says pointing to the table. There is quite the feast laid out. I recognize the chicken, but there are meats I have never seen, something that looks like a turkey but has six large drumsticks, instead of two; a large platter of fruits of every color imaginable.

"You must taste this, it's divine." Effie says dreamily, scooping a spoonful of white foam onto my plate. I dip my spoon in and take a small bite, the second it touches my tongue it begins to cool and solidify, changing from a creamy flavor to a rich chocolate. My eyes widen in surprise. "It's a new ice cream, they just released it; we are some of the first to try it. Isn't it wonderful?" Effie asks excitedly.

I turn to Peeta and give him some, his reaction is comical. His eyes widen and then close to savor the flavor.

After that dinner is a blur of food, I can't seem to get enough into my belly fast enough. Peeta looks like he's having the same problem.

It was after my third helping of that strange ice cream that I realize I've made a mistake. I have never eaten so much before in my life, or such rich foods that I'm afraid it might make a reappearance. Peeta doesn't seem to be doing any better. His hands are on his belly and his face is pale with a light sheen of sweat.

"Well," Effie starts, she pauses to dab her mouth and then gently places the cloth napkin on her empty plate. "if you're through, let us retire to the sitting room and watch the recaps of the reapings."

Peeta and I slowly make our way behind Effie, carefully not to move to quickly, so as not to disturb our stomachs. Effie sits elegantly in a small puffy chair and gestures to a love seat for Peeta and I to sit on.

The television flickers on and I immediately zone out, I can only take so much of Effie droning on and on about the style and the poor people of the Districts who don't get the proper hair care.

The only two Tributes who stand out from the haze I've put myself in are the brute of a boy from District Two, he got into a scrap with a few other boys trying to make his way to the stage. So eager to win. So eager to kill.

A small little girl from District Eleven is called, I don't hear her name; I'm too lost in her small face, her dark eyes so much like Prim's, large and innocent. She keeps her chin up, unwavering in the midst of the chaos of the crowd. I know she must be very young, barely twelve I'd say. A smaller version of her tries to reach the stage but is roughly grabbed by a Peacekeer before the feed is cut.

Finally, District Twelve is shown. I can see Effie calling Prim, and the absolute terror on my face as I push her behind me and volunteer. Gale pulls her away and I'm proud of how quickly I school my features.

Next they show Peeta volunteering, the boy's mother thanking him. Peeta looks so strong and brave and completely extraordinary in comparison to myself, I see the brave face I've put on, but my eyes look like a wild animal in a cage. I'm counting on the other Tributes to not pick up on that.

"My, my, what a wonderful display." A female commentator starts, her purple sparkly skin glitters in the light. "Have you ever seen such a thing?" She asks turning to Claudius Templesmith.

"Indeed I have not, Farrah, in all my years of hosting the recaps have I ever seen such a heartfelt volunteering, at least not by those in the higher numbered Districts. Did you see the determination in her eyes, she will be a force to be reckoned with." He says with such awe it makes me want to vomit. I had only been thinking about keeping Prim safe.

"Oh and her District partner," She says with a swoonful sigh. I look at Peeta and snicker, his face is beet red. "the way he volunteered for that boy. And look how handsome he is!" She says with another sigh.

"Quite right, Farrah, let's see what the people have to say."

At this point the compartment door skids open and Haymitch steps through, he gives us a sloshed looking grin, grabs a bottle of clear liquid grins at us and leaves.

Effie makes an undignified noise in her throat, drawing our attention to her. "That man better shape up, your lives are in his hands." She says through clenched teeth, but her tone is still pleasant; this is a change of pace, I haven't seen her be anything less than overly happy; like a small dog dancing around our feet begging to be pet. She even ate a grape with a knife a fork! "Oh he just makes me so mad!" She takes a deep breath and looks at us, a large smile plastered on her reddening face. "I'm sorry children, that was improper of me. I will have a talk with your mentor in the morning. If you'll excuse me, I'm going to retire to my room. Good evening," she nods at both of us in turn, and leaves the sitting room.

"That was weird," I say to the quiet room.

Peeta nods, "Yeah," he agrees absently. "I didn't think she had an emotional range like that." He says cracking a smile.

I smile back and stand to my feet, unsure of what to do; I'm not really tired, but I don't think I can listen to one more word these Capital people have to say about me. "I think I'm going to head to bed," I say lamely, gesturing to where Haymitch and Effie made their exits.

"I'm going to stay up a bit, I'm too wound up."

"Ok, goodnight," I say, I squeeze his shoulder as I walk around the love seat.

I pass a young man resetting the table for breakfast, he nods in greeting to me before going back to his work. I make it to my room and slide into the bed, not bothering to remove any of my clothes.

I can feel the burning prickle behind my eyes, but I will the tears to stop. If I start now there's no telling when I may stop. I can't help but think back to my mother and Prim this afternoon. My mother looked so downtrodden when I snapped at her, she has been trying with me; and I do nothing but push her away, the only thing that eases the ache in my chest is knowing that I got I got to tell her I loved her.

And Prim, my sweet Prim. She has so much faith in me coming home. I can't help but feel as thought I lied to her when I said I would try and come home. I'll try, there's no doubt about that, but there's sure to be larger, stronger, more blood thirsty Tributes that I'll be stuck with; tributes who have no qualms about killing to get closer to home.

And Gale, his talk really helped. There are no rules saying we have to kill, the Gamemakers will give us plenty opportunities to die; I'll defend myself if needed, but I don't have to be a killer. His kissing my forehead brings me up short, he's dropped hints here and there of him having deeper feelings for me; I've never encouraged him, but I've never known how to tell him things aren't going to happen. He knows how I feel about marriage. And even though he never got to finish his sentence, I have a pretty good idea of what he was going to say.

I let out a huff of air and roll on my back, why did things have to be so complicated? We have a good thing going, I watch his back and he watches mine. His family is my family, and vice versa. I can't bare the thought of him expecting things from me if I were to return home. I could never be more than his friend.

...

Sleep must have claimed me at some point, the room is now bright and there are shadows moving on my wall from the passing trees. I get up and shed my clothes from last night and step into the shower. There are so many buttons, I push one and a gel that smells like lavender falls in my hands, I rub it in my hair and rinse it off. After testing a few more buttons I find a conditioner of the same scent and coat my hair with it. I rinse everything off and step out of the shower, wrapping myself in a large fluffy towel and wonder back to the room.

There's a silky forest green dress hanging up on my door that wasn't there when I woke up. I put on a matching pair of undergarments and slip the dress on and step in front of the mirror attached to the closet. Effie was right, it fits perfectly, the neckline is simple, a straight line held up by thick straps, the dress is loose but fitting on my waist and hips, the hem hits at my knees. There's a thin belt that is attached to the dress just under my chest, adding to the illusion of curves. I take the pin Madge gave me from my mothers dress that was crumpled on the floor and attach it to the dress, just under my collar bone. I don't bother doing anything to my hair and walk into the dinning car.

Effie spots me immediately and leaps gracefully to her feet. "Oh, no, no, no. You can't just leave your hair looking like limp noodles. I see have to show you how to care for your hair." She grabs my elbow. I shoot a panicked look to Peeta who seems to be obliviously dunking a roll in a dark liquid, Haymitch is too busy stirring his coffee to care.

Effie drags me back to my room and to the bathroom. She points to a small metal plate, "Put your hand on that dear." I obey and a small tingling climbs up my arm, all the way to my scalp. She removes my hand and pushes me to the mirror. My hair has been dried and is now straight, and free of knots. She steps behind me and weaves a single braid in my hair and let's it rest over my shoulder.

The only thing stranger than having Effie Trinket gently braiding my hair, is the fact that it's my usual hairstyle. I look at her in question in the mirror. She shrugs.

"I thought it would suit you,"

"Thank you," I say, my voice cracking. Effie has been confusing me since the moment I met her. I've seen her almost giddy over the prospect of children volunteering to face almost certain death, get excited over the idea of girl talk, bragging about us to that bird lady, get visibly angry over Haymitch's drinking, and now her braiding my hair; treating such a mundane task with such reverence... I don't even know what to make of this woman anymore.

"Come along dear, we don't want to miss breakfast. After all, we have a big, big day ahead of us!" She smiles kindly at me and slips out of the bathroom.

I trail behind her and sit next to Peeta, he smiles brightly and pushes over a mug of the same drink he had. "It's called hot chocolate. Try it, it's delicious!"

"Thank you," I reply and take a sip. It's unlike anything I've ever tasted;it's creamy, and deliciously chocolatey. I have tried coffee before, once before my father died. It was bitter and tasted burnt.

"Dunk this in it," Peeta says handing me a piece of buttered toast. I do as he suggests, and it's heavenly.

"Your babysitter informs me that I need to give you advice," Haymitch says, not taking his eyes off the flask of liquor he's adding to his coffee.

"What can you tell us?" Peeta asks sitting up straighter, looking like an eager child.

"Yeah," he starts, smirking at him, and winking at me. "Hide somewhere and just wait for everyone else to die!" He finishes, laughing maniacally.

Peeta regards him for a moment before he snatches the flask out of his hand and throws it behind him. Haymitch stares at him, before something flashes in his eyes and he hits Peeta in the face, sending him tumbling out of his chair. I don't know how it happened, but I suddenly have Haymitch pinned to the wall with my forearm against his neck.

"Katniss! That dress is silk! You'll wrinkle it before we get to the station!" Effie shrieks, I ignore her.

Haymitch looks very calm for having a crazy girl just attack him. His gaze turns calculating, and he puts his hands on my shoulders and firmly pushes me away, but not hard enough to knock me over.

"Well, well, do I actual have a pair fighters this year? You do look a bit scrappy," He remarks with a smirk. I look at him a second longer, and see his smirk widen; the stupid drunk provoked me on purpose. He winks and takes his seat again. I step back to Peeta and give him a hand up. "Take a seat Sweetheart," Haymitch orders.

I sit next to Peeta and take his hand under the table, Peeta doesn't know Haymitch did what he did on purpose. All Peeta has know is pain from adults; his mother laying hands on him and his father turning a blind eye, all of the gossip of the town and no one stepping in. I'll have to tell him that Haymitch didn't mean it.

"Well? What is it we can do? You've done this before." Peeta asks, almost pleadingly.

Haymitch puts up a finger to silence Peeta. "Listen, Wonderboy, we'll be arriving soon; we don't have time to talk. As soon as we get to the station the cameras are going to gobble you up. Look like you don't give a shit, you'll be given to your stylists. Let them do whatever they want," I open my mouth to argue. "Whatever they want, I don't care if they want to tar and feather you, keep your mouth shut. Got it? Good, another thing; if you leave me alone about my drinking, I'll keep a clear enough head to help you. Deal?" Peeta and I nod, not sure what else to say. Haymitch nods in acceptance. "We'll talk more after dinner." He says setting his napkin down and exiting the dinning car.

As soon as he leaves the car is engulfed in darkness, Peeta rushes to the window just as the sun blinds us.

I can see the skyline of the Capital from my seat at the table, tall oddly shaped buildings with bright colorful rooftops that look like candy, the whole city is shiny, almost blindingly so.

"I can see the station, oh man, that's a lot of people." Peeta says exhaling loudly. It feels like a second later the train is coming to a stop.

I can see flashes from cameras as Peeta smiles and waves from the window. "Come here, this is crazy!" Peeta says almost excitedly.

I walk over and stand by his side, the people are so done up they're frightening. Unnatural skin tones abound, more people resembling animals; one woman has a fishbowl on her head with live gold fish swimming inside. They come as close as they can to the train and frantically wave at us, some of them brandishing small cameras. Many of them had probably been waiting for hours to get a peek at the next Tributes. It's disgusting.

"C'mon, Katniss, smile and wave. Someone out there might have a lot of money." He says smiling innocently at me.

It's at that moment that I understand that Peeta might play a bigger role in our survival than I thought.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How do you feel about Effie? I have plans for her, so her ooc-ness is planned.
> 
> And seriously, how does Katniss not know she's totally a fool for our resident Bread Boy? Sheesh.
> 
> Confession- If my memory serves I wrote this very late in the evening and thought naming the bird lady Polly was the funniest thing I've ever done. 6+ months later; I still find it funny.
> 
> Super excited for Peeta to unleash his inner BAMF soon.
> 
> This is almost as long as my chapter. Gonna end it. Stay sexy AO3.


	7. Chapter Six

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Katniss waxes poetic about her hairless body (Im so punny)
> 
> It's a nice day for a parade
> 
> Cato and Clove look intimidating

You ever hear that old saying, "you don't know what you've got until it's gone,"? I completely understand that now. I turn my head and look at the hair covered strips on the table next to me. It's not that I was overly fond of being hairy, it just provided a little extra warmth for hunting in the winter.

I lay naked on a hard, cold metal table; a woman who had introduced herself as Venia with the squeaky customary Capital accent, was rubbing a foul smelling salve on my legs, that seemed to be removing another layer of skin. She looked nice enough, for a Capital citizen. She seemed to be really sorry that she was causing me pain, she apologized with every strip being yanked away.

"There, all done." She cooed, patting my foot. I nod, keeping my gaze on the ceiling. I desperately want to grab the robe on the chair next to me, but I have a feeling they aren't done with me yet.

I feel like I have been in here for hours. They've waxed hair from my eyebrows, upper lip and arms, along with my legs. The guy with curly orange hair, Flavius, had even plucked a stray hair from my nose. He didn't seem too concerned about my discomfort.

My skin is raw, and my feet and hands have been scrubbed and soaked, I'll never understand how Capital people do this, I've heard they think this is relaxing!

"You're doing better than most, the last tribute we had, cried!" Flavius says, almost gleefully.

"She was probably terrified," I say coldly. I know I should hold my tongue, these people are ruthless, they watch children die and murder each other for fun, they don't care if a frightened girl cries when she gets a waxing. But to my surprise, Flavius looks a little sheepish.

"Well at any rate, you're stronger than most." He clears his throat. "Octavia! Get the tub ready!" He shouts, turning around, he goes to a closet and pulls out a cart weighed down with boxes and bottles of varying sizes.

A plump woman I assume to be Octavia rushes out of the room and then comes back and gently takes my hand. Her skin has been dyed a light green that softly shimmers in the light, I'm surprised that I find that it suits her. She leads me behind a partition where a deep tub filled with yellow goop awaits me. The smell makes me stop short, it's a mix of old eggs and rotten fruit.

"I know it smells dreadful, but it'll soften your skin and take away any discomfort. Promise," she says patting my shoulder. I let her help me settle in the smelly concoction, noticing the burning on my arms and legs has started to ebb. If the mixture didn't smell so pungent, it might have been relaxing.

"Come along, dear, we need to trim your hair!" Flavius chirps. Venia and Octavia help me out of the tub and wipe the stinky stuff off my body.

Flavius trims while the women apply a flowery scented lotion all over my skin. They had just finished with my makeup when Flavius clapped his hands again and deemed me acceptable of being seen by Cinna. The three walk gracefully out of the room and I'm finally left alone. I quickly grab the robe and throw it on, uncaring if I have to take it off again.

A moment later the door opens again and a man steps in. I'm shocked by his appearance; while the prep team had some enhancements- Venia had tattoos on her face, Flavius with his unnatural hair color and Octavia with her dyed, shimmery skin- Cinna looks untouched. His dark hair is short, his skin a natural caramel. The only thing I see that gives to the eccentric fashion of the Capital is the gold eyeliner, but even that seems to suit him.

He stands before me and extends his hand, "Hello, Katniss, I'm Cinna."

I shake his hand but remain silent.

"Hold still, please." He says walking around me, his brown eyes looking over my form. I'm thankful he let me keep the robe. He finishes his circle and stands before me again. "Hungry?"

I realize that I haven't eaten since breakfast on the train, what time was it? "Yes," I say to him.

We walk over to a small couch and he presses a button on the table. A covered platter comes up from some trap door. I don't know what's hidden beneath it, but I imagine it's more extravagant food like on the train. I wasn't expecting small sandwiches and fruit I actually recognized.

"I hope you weren't expecting anything spectacular, I'm partial to simpler foods." Cinna says picking up a sandwich. I take one too.

"No, this is perfect." I say taking a bite. Turkey and lettuce. "We ate some kind of bird that had six legs last night." I said with a shudder, it was good, but something like that had to be grown in a lab somewhere. It gave me the creeps.

Cinna laughed, it was quiet, but deep and rich. "I try and stay away from things not found in nature."

After eating, Cinna looked at me for a few moments, scrutinizing every detail of my face, the prep team had been told to leave my face natural, nothing crazy, for that I was grateful. "Portia, my partner, and I, chose District Twelve after your reaping." He said suddenly.

"You did? Why?" I asked in confusion.

Cinna gave me a smile, almost as if I wasn't privy to a secret. "We like a good underdog." He sipped at his water, looking at me again. "How do you feel about fire, Katniss?" He asks, smirking at me.

...

A few hours later finds me stuffed into a black suit, it covered my body save for my hands and face. For it being so tight it's relatively comfortable, it even has a cape!

Cinna leads me down twisted hallways and through serval doors, a long elevator ride later and we come into a large room. There are twelve chariots waiting with horses to be lead out of the gate, waiting to be paraded through the Capital center.

I quickly spot Peeta standing beside the very last set of horses, I keep my focus on him, not interested in looking at our competition.

A large, hard body roughly bumps into my shoulder, I turn and am met with cold blue eyes. The boy from Two towers over me, his face menacing. "Watch where you're walking, Twelve." He says cockily, like I'm the one who bumped into him. A short girl with dark brown hair peers around him and looks at me, sizing me up. She looks small, but her eyes hold a darkness in them.

"Stay out of my way, and there won't be a problem, Two." I say, staring into his eyes unflinchingly. His eyes grow darker, staring me down.

"Katniss, let's keep moving, shall we?" Cinna says, ending our staring match.

"Run along, Twelve," the girl says, moving her hands in a shooing motion.

"Nice bumping into you, but we've got some sponsors to win." The boy says, I think I heard his name was Plato? Potato? Whatever it is, it doesn't matter.

I don't get a chance to reply, Cinna pushes me forward. By this time Peeta has seen us and is staring angrily at Plato. I stop in front of him, my relief of Peeta being similarly dressed is short lived, he scoops me into a bone crushing hug. "What did he say to you?"

I push him away gently, he gets the message and let's go. "Just wishing us luck," I mutter before turning to face Cinna again.

"Alright, you two ready?" A blond lady- I assume is Portia- standing to the right of Cinna asks.

"It's almost time, remember this is a synthetic flame, it only works on these suits. Ok?" He asks, looking us each in the eye.

"I'm going to be so embarrassed if I burn to death before we leave the tunnel." Peeta says quietly, talking out the side of his mouth, earning him a small giggle from me.

"Don't worry, I'll stomp your fire out." I whisper back. Peeta looks pained thinking about that, it causes me to laugh again.

"Alright, up you go, it's time."Cinna says taking a long stick out of his pockets. Portia touches the stick with some kind of metal device that sparks. The stick ignites, the flame a strange blue.

Peeta climbs up first, giving me a hand up. Cinna and Portia touch the burning sticks to our suits. I tense, waiting for the heat. I relax when it doesn't come, in fact the suit feels quite cool, the magic flames tickling my chin.

I glance over at Peeta, the flames now look like real fire, it makes his skin glow and his eyes shine. His hair is brighter, he looks like some kind of heavenly creature.

His eyes flick over and meet mine, a subtle blush takes over his face. "What?" He asks shyly.

I turn my gaze forward, realizing I had been staring at him. "Nothing, I was just thinking how I could scare a horse enough to make it pee on you to stop you from burning up."

Peeta's loud laughter echoes through the large hall, a few Tributes turn and look at us, but I don't pay attention to them.

Portia and Cinna stand in front of our chariot and look us over, they give us a thumbs up and step back with the other stylists.

The line in front of us starts to move, our horses lightly jerk our perch. I look over to Peeta one last time, he gives me a thin smile. Just before our horses get to the door he takes my hand and gently kisses my knuckles, he lowers our hands but doesn't let go.

I don't have much time to ponder the fluttery feeling in my belly, or the electricity in my chest, we are soon pulled out of the door and out into the center of the Capital. There are huge rows of seats as far as I can see, flashes popping in every direction. A camera on some kind of small aircraft zooms around us, circles a few times and then zips away.

I'm not scared- more like stunned. All I can hear are people shouting our names. People shouting my name. Peeta squeezes my hand making me look up at him. "Stop scowling, smile and wave. They'll love you," he says winking. Peeta is waving and smiling, he even picked a rose off our cart and threw it in the stands, causing a riot of young girls to try and catch it.

I look to the right, a man screams my name when I catch his eye.

I can do this. How do the girls at school act?

I throw my arm up and wave, I do every ridiculous thing I can think of, I bat my eyes and blow kisses. I feel so silly but it seems to work.

"I love you, Katniss!" Someone shouts from above me, I send a wink in their general direction. Someone throws a rose, I catch it and tuck in in my hair, causing a new roll of screaming.

I look at Peeta, he seems to be getting the same welcome as me. Maybe we can do this. Someone here has to want to bet on us!

The crowd continues to shout or names even after we come to a stop in front of the presidents mansion, I can see the other Tributes throwing us looks of destain, some look at us in jealously. But the boy from District Two, whatever his name is; is seething. I can see the veins in his neck pulsating. He might want to get that looked at.

The crowd still shouting for us and is only silenced when President Snow himself demands they be quiet.

He gives his routine speech, welcoming us to the Capital, thanking us for our sacrifice, blah, blah, blah. He doesn't mean it anyway.

The Tribute chariots turn around and go back where they came, Peeta and I make sure to lay it on thick on the return trip.

Our flames are put out and Effie meets is at the elevator, I'm surprised, I didn't think her job went further than the train.

"There you are! Oh my, dears, you were marvelous! Absolutely splendid!" She chirps, excitedly clapping her hands. For some reason I can't help but smile at her. She walks up to us and places her hands on our shoulders and steers us to the elevator.

The elevator was roomy, and completely done in shiny metal, I could see Effie standing behind us, fluffing her hair in the reflection. I looked at Peeta and he seemed to be barely concealing a smile at our escort.

The doors opened to reveal a large alcove, with bright white walls and ridiculous looking paintings on the walls. Effie swivels passed us and snapped her fingers. "Move along dears, dinner should be arriving any moment."

Effie quickly ushers us down a hallway and stops in front of the first door. "Peeta, dear, here you are. Haymitch is right next door."

"Thank you, Effie." He says with a smile. He opens his door and with Effie's back to him he sticks his tongue out at me, I try to return the gesture but he's already closed the door.

"And you my darling, are right here." She says, tapping the closed door. "Right next to me," she says with a hopeful tone. "Perhaps we could have that girl talk after dinner? We didn't get a chance to chat last night." She says smiling, making her thick makeup look cakey in her faint smile lines.

I cringe, that is the last thing I want to do. What could we possibly have to talk about? "Sounds great, Effie." I reply with a wide and hopefully none too obvious smile.

"Excellent!" She twirls passed me and skips down the hall the way we came from.

I sigh and roll my eyes and open the door. The room is massive, it's a lot to take in a once, it's all creams and neutral colors. The bed is even bigger than the one on the train, it has fifteen pillows; I counted. And a ridiculously high head board, it's wood, and carved in great detail is a map of Panem. The Districts are small, not as detailed as the Capital; I wouldn't be surprised if the carving was completely accurate of all buildings and streets. It's seems a bit much, a tad narcissistic.

I turn away from the bed and go to one of the closed doors and open it, it's a closet, and it puts the one on the train to shame. Its enormous, and stuffed to the brim with colorful fabric, and shoes, and hats. I could probably live here a lifetime and still not wear everything this closet has to offer. Feeling rather intimidated I grab the first shirt and pants I find, a simple red shirt and black pants and a pair of underwear that had the most cloth and go to the other door hoping a bathroom lurks beyond.

After struggling much like I did on the train, I finally manage to clean myself. I am impressed that I remembered what the metal platelet was for.

Clean and dry I make my way back down the hallway, hearing light laughter I turn the corner. Haymitch sits at the head of the table, Cinna and Portia sit together at his right, Peeta at his left and Effie at the end of the table. I take the only open seat next to Peeta and try and smile at the rest of the table, I do send a glare at Haymitch though. He only seems to find it amusing though.

"Hey there, Sweetheart. Glad you could finally join us." He says shoving a fork of something in his mouth.

"I had a bit of trouble," I mumble at my plate.

"I didn't know which buttons to press either," Peeta offers.

"Oh, Katniss, I'm so glad you remembered how to work the hair dryer." Effie says, her voice edged with pride.

"Yes, thank you for showing me, Effie." She beams at me, and if she didn't have so much gunk on her face, I'd swear she were blushing.

"Yes, you look fabulous." Haymitch says with a snicker. I squeeze the fork tighter in my hand, but decide not to comment.

"You should have heard the chatter in the viewing boxes when you came out, it was pandemonium! They couldn't get enough of you dears!" Effie says with a smile, looking like she had something to do with it.

"It was pretty brilliant," I say smiling at Cinna and Portia. They both raise their glasses at me with small smiles.

"It was a pleasure setting you two on fire," Cinna smirks. To which Portia lightly slaps his arm.

"So..." Haymitch says catching our attention. He begins to wave his fork between Peeta and I. "What's up with the hand holding?" He says looking into our eyes, I imagine he's trying to read our minds.

"It was nothing, I was nervous and Peeta held my hand."

"It was perfect," Haymitch replies with a certain tone, but not elaborating further.

I glance at Peeta, but he seems to be just as lost as I am.

After dinner, everyone decides to watch the recap of the parade, I'd rather stick a fork in my eye, but concede and find myself sandwiched between Peeta and Haymitch; who surprisingly doesn't smell like spirits, I still lean away from him. His very presence raises my hackles, he's never done anything to me personally, but I can't help but be on the verge of annoyance whenever he is around. Peeta on the other hand, smells like fresh cut flowers, but I can still smell home underneath the Capital couture. It soothes my nerves and helps me effectively tune out the television.

I wonder how Prim and my mother are doing. What did they think of Peeta and I tonight? And Gale, I'm not sure if he watched. I imagine he had to, it being mandatory viewing.

Peeta wiggles next to me and taps the top of my head. "Recap is over, big hands." He says with mock seriousness.

I use my elbow in his side to get up, getting a satisfactory yelp of pain in return.

"We'll talk at breakfast," Haymitch grunts and leaves the room.

Cinna and Portia bid the rest of us good night before exiting our floor.

I turn to Peeta, wondering what I should do. I want to know how he's doing, we haven't really talked much the last few days. I take his hand and rub my thumb across the back of his hand, he smiles warmly at me.

"Katniss darling, it's still early. I would love it if we spent a little time together." Her smile is blinding. I sigh, knowing what I'm going to do. As annoying and ignorant Effie is, she has a certain innocence about her.

"Sure thing, Effie. Just going to say goodnight to Peeta."

She looks between us for a moment, a small smile playing on her pink lips. "You two are just precious." She sighs.

I squint my eyes in confusion. "Thanks?" I say, but it sounds more like a question.

Peeta chuckles beside me. "We do try, Effie."

Her eyes scan us again before she sighs and leaves the room.

"So what was that all about?" Peeta asks, amusement coloring his tone.

"Girl talk," I mutter. "I might have mentioned- sarcastically- on the train that we could have girl talk and gossip."

Peeta's barking laughter surprises me. "That's great! Can I be there too? I don't want to miss that!" He replies, breaking into another fit of chuckles.

"I don't even want to be there, no way I'm going to have embarrassing conversation in front of you, too." I look into his smiling eyes and can't help but crack one too. Peeta is always so wonderful, it makes me wonder how he can be friends with me, I'm always so sullen.

"Oh," I say remembering the train incident. "You remember this morning on the train? I think he was just trying to agitate us."

"Yeah, I got that after you pinned him against the wall." He says, smirking at me.

I look down, slightly embarrassed, I was only reacting out of Peeta being hurt.

"Don't sweat it, I thought it was pretty cool." Peeta says tightening his grip on my hand, I had forgotten they were still connected.

I clear my throat and slowly remove my hand from his. "I better get this over with, if she tries to put make up on me I might kill her."

"Be nice, she is half responsible for getting us sponsors you know." He says sternly, but I can't take it seriously with that mischievous glint in his blue eyes.

"Yeah, yeah, wish me luck." I toss over my shoulder as I move passed him towards Effie's room.

"Have fun!" Peeta calls after me.

"Shut up!" I yell back.

Peeta's musical laughter is the last thing I hear before I'm engulfed in pink, feathers, and fluffy robes.

Must not kill Effie. Must not kill Effie. Must not kill Effie...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whoop there it is! *starts dancing*
> 
> Any thoughts?


	8. Chapter Seven

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The morning after Effie's girl talk extravaganza 
> 
> Haymitch loves Peeta and Katniss. He just doesn't know it.
> 
> Cato is creepy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well here's the last of the chapters I have so far (5-20-2016) gonna let you know that I don't have a schedule for updating, I have small kids, but I do try to update at least once a month. It know that's horrible, but hey a relationship can't work without honesty, right?

I wake with a dull throb of a headache, Effie had allowed me a small glass of wine, but never having any kind of alcohol it went straight to my head after the first few sips; it could also account for me allowing her to put a smelly green paste on my face and paint my toenails.

She had opened the door and threw a pink frilly robe at me and gave me a silk night dress to put on, practically shoving me in the bathroom. I stayed in there as long as I could, but then I realized I was just prolonging my own torture; I've heard girls at school talking about "slumber parties" they seemed excited. It couldn't possibly be that bad, right?

Wrong. So wrong.

After coming out of the bathroom we put goop on our faces; and I was right, Effie is quite beautiful under all of that Capital make up. I make a point in telling her, she smiles shyly- and I notice in the morning her face isn't so ghostly white and her eyeshadow isn't so outrageous- and thanks me. Then she stuffs cotton between my toes and paints them.

After the wine had been served Effie asked if I had a boy at home, she seemed overly pleased when I said the only boy that was really around was Peeta, which wasn't a lie, I've only seen Gale on our hunting days when he has a day off from the mines. But I leave him out anyway, she probably wouldn't care about that stuff.

Saying what I said about Peeta she begins a tyrant of questions: "have we kissed? Do we have feelings for each other? Does his Merchant mother approve?"

Once Effie is satisfied with the amount of "Girl Time" she bids me goodnight.

It surprises me how chipper Effie is when she knocks to remind me of the "Big, big day!" We're going to have, she finished the bottle of wine; but I suppose that's normal when all of your time is fancy parties and watching children being murdered for entertainment.

I groan and roll out of bed and blindly push buttons once I reach the shower; I some how manage to actually clean myself and I use the wall dryer and find the outfit that is hung up in my closet. It's a shirt and pants, all black with a shiny '12' embroidered on each of the sleeves.

After getting dressed I go to the dinning room and sit next to Peeta, who is dressed just like me. I fill up my plate and eat quietly.

After Haymitch puts the last piece of some kind of sausage in his mouth he wipes his lips and tosses the cloth napkin on his plate. "Well, how are we going to play this?" He asks, looking between Peeta and myself.

"Play what?" Peeta asks, taking a sip of water.

"Training, what can you do? What can't you do? You seem close, do you want to train together?" He finishes, narrowing his eyes, sizing us up.

"I don't see why we would train separately, we've known each other almost our whole lives." I say, not sure where this unsettling feeling is coming from.

"Alright, Sweetheart, let's start with you. You've got strength when you need it," he says, alluding to the train incident. "what else can you do?"

I shrug my shoulders, "Nothing special really,"

Peeta snorts next to me, I glare at him.

"Something on your mind, Wonder Boy?"

"She's underselling herself, she can pick off a squirrel so far away that a normal person wouldn't be able to see it, shoot it right in the eye, every time." Peeta starts to chuckle. "I swear you're like the son my dad never had." He says patting my shoulder.

I roll my eyes. "Ok, what about you? You beat Rye in that wrestling match,"

Peeta's eyes widen slightly. "You were there?"

"Of course I was, you idiot. You tossed him around like a rag doll." I turn my attention back to Haymitch, who seems reluctantly amused by us. "He can pick up 100 pound bags of flour and toss them up on the trailer when the supply train comes."

"She can identify just about any plant or berry, she gathers most of her mothers herbs for medicines." Peeta tells Haymitch, who nods, soaking in the information.

"Well, he can run really fast, he's as loud as a moose, but he's quick."

Peeta scoffs. "She can climb trees,"

"He's great at painting, he could probably camouflage himself in any arena."

"She can out run bees and hold her breath under water for two minutes." He says practically giggling.

"He can eat a whole red pepper without needing to drink milk." This is getting ridiculous, but it's so much fun, Haymitch seems to be losing patience, but is allowing us to prattle on.

"She has the biggest hands I've ever seen on a girl."

I gasp, pretending to be upset. "He likes to wear my mothers dresses when he has tea with my sister!"

Peeta's eyes bulge and he frantically looks between me and Haymitch. "That- that was one time! I was was twelve and she was sick!" He looks at Haymitch "You can't say no to Prim." He glares daggers at me. "She took all of the heads off my mothers collectible dolls and put them in my parents bed." He says with a straight face, looking very serious, like he's spilling a national secret.

"Peeta! You promised you wouldn't tell!" I shout. I had only done that because she had taken all of Peeta's art supplies, hoping he would focus more on trying to woo the Merchant girls. I scramble my brain trying to think of something to say. "Yeah, well, he, he-"

"Are you two together?" Haymitch interrupts. Peeta and I both blush terribly and shake our heads in the negative. "Interesting..." Haymitch mutters into his coffee. "Well, as entertaining as that was, I've heard more than enough. Now go meet Effie before I cut myself with this dull butter knife." He says shooing us from the table, I can tell that he secretly found our exchange to be funny, there's a crinkle to his eyes that wasn't there this morning.

Peeta and I lean into each other finally giving into the laughter, both of us forgetting about Haymitch's question. Effie is waiting for us when we get to the elevator.

"There you are, darlings! We must go, we have a tight schedule. Come along," she chirps. We board the elevator and she presses a button and the elevator zooms down. "Alright, loves, you will train for three hours, break for lunch and then train for another three hours, you will eat lunch in the training center, but all other meals will be held on our floor. It is not required to mingle with other Tributes, but it would be wise to form alliances quickly." Peeta and I nod, showing were listening, I have no interest in befriending any of these people.

The door open to a large room, we seem to be the last to arrive, half of the group turning to look at us. Potato- Cato, as Effie told me last night- and his partner both smirk at us. Effie pats our shoulders and hurries back to the elevator.

The room is large and divided into sections, there's a wall of weapons, daggers, swords and metal balls attached to chains with spikes coming out of them. There's a lush green area, most likely a plant studies section. There's a large mat in the middle of the room for sparing, but Tributes are forbidden from fighting each other, as the woman in the middle has just announced, if we want to fight, a trainer will help us.

There are other sections but all is lost when my eyes land land on a section in the corner, there are at least five different types of bows and a number of different targets. I'm brought out of my fog when Peeta lightly taps my shoulder and I see everyone has gone to a section. "What?" I ask, embarrassed.

"I've been thinking, all of the Careers are going to be showing off, I say we stay modest. Save it for the private sessions." He says looking around. I follow his line of sight and see Cato throwing spears like he's throwing stones in a pond. His partner, the dangerous looking girl with dark hair, is juggling daggers, before throwing them in the middle of a body shaped target.

Elsewhere, other tributes seem to be good at other things. A lithe looking girl with red hair and sharp facial features seems to be flying through the plant identification test.

It's a really good idea, (and I'm kind of surprised Haymitch didn't say the same thing.) and us being from Twelve everyone will already be underestimating us, we hadn't made any friends by our display during the Tribute parade either, probably best to lay as low as possible.

"Yeah, that sounds smart. Where do you want to go?"

"There's a camouflage station, you can paint flowers on my face." He says with a wink before dragging me to a set of tables with mud and berries. He has me sit in a chair and grabs a bowl and starts pouring things in, I try and keep up with what is added, but he seems to know what he's doing, so he's adding things before I can see.

He takes my hand and starts to slather it in mud. I realize with a jolt how smooth his hands are, the feeling of his skin isn't entirely unwelcome, just a bit shocking, Peeta's hands have always been rough with hard work at the bakery. Peeta must notice my reaction to his hand, he lets out a muffled chuckle- as he has a brush stuck between his lips- "They primped and polished me just as much, if not more than you," he says clinching the brush in his teeth.

"It's nice," I say before I can stop myself. Peeta's cheeks darken, but he doesn't say anything.

I watch as he swirls colors and patterns onto my arm, mixing grays and yellows and oranges. Eventually my eyes wonder back to his face, his tongue poking out between his lips in concentration, the way his impossibly long eyelashes seem to glow in the harsh overhead lights. A small thought bubbles up, reminding me that I shouldn't be thinking of Peeta this way; we are going to win, and he'll have his pick of girls when we get home.

"There," he says with a final flourish of his brush. "done." He takes my clean hand and leads me to a tall patch of fake dried grass. He places my hand in front and I watch in amazement as my hand disappears, completely blending in.

"Peeta this is amazing!" I say smiling at him.

"If only I could frost someone to death," he jokes.

Over the next few days the Gamemakers trickle in and watch us- and when I say us, I mean Peeta and myself- it's a little unnerving how much they watch Peeta and me, making little notes on paper and whispering amongst themselves.

I've also noticed someone has been shadowing us.

"That's Rue from District Eleven." Peeta says when I bring it up.

She is even smaller in person, her eyes rounder, and her overall demeanor more innocent. I smile at her, knowing it would be dangerous to become attached to her, losing her would be like losing Prim if I allowed her to get close.

It's the last day of group training and Peeta has gone to the restroom, leaving me to wonder the center alone. I decide to go to the knot tying station, the woman seems impressed with my ability to make a twitch up snare, she shows me a few modifications on how to make it stronger.

"Fancy seeing you alone, Twelve, your little boyfriend crying somewhere?" A voice says above me.

I look up to see Cato towering over me. He has the same deadly smirk from the first day of training, he sits next to me, almost touching, he grabs a rope and begins tying and winding the rope in his hands.

"You know, when my father used to train me, he would pay some poor, starving kid to fight me. At first-"

He twists the rope.

"even the weak were stronger than me, their desire for a free meal too enticing to be beaten by some rich kid who never went without."

Another flick of his wrist.

"But as I got stronger-"

Flick.

"Even their will for survival wasn't enough-"

He loops the rope, pulling it tight.

"I've broken many people before volunteering this year," He says looking me in the eye. His deadly icy blue eyes seemingly staring into my soul. "Don't think your little show at the parade has won you any favors." He leans in closer and puts his lips to my ear. "I'll enjoy breaking you just as much as any person here." He whispers, his voice is like steel. I've never been afraid of another person before, and I try not to let it show, he's just trying to get inside my head.

"There a problem here?" Peeta asks standing behind us. I try not to let my shoulders sag with relief.

"Nah, just practicing my technique, having a nice conversation with a fellow Tribute." Cato stands, rope still in hand, he faces Peeta, nose to nose; "Have a nice day, champ." He says patting Peeta's arm. He looks down at me and winks, dropping his rope in my lap before stalking away.

Peeta sits next to me, rubbing my arm. "You alright? Did he hurt you?" He asks, concern bleeding into his voice.

"I'm fine, he was just trying to scare me."

Peeta nods and looks at the rope in my lap. "What's that?" He asks pointing to it.

I lift up the rope Cato tossed carelessly into my lap.

He'd made a noose.

...

The morning of the private sessions are spent being shuffled back and forth between Haymitch and Effie, giving us a rundown of the dos and do nots; Haymitch focusing on our fighting techniques and Effie, of course, on the etiquette.

After a few hours of Peeta and I goofing off Haymitch tells us to go. "I've done all I can do, if you're not going to take this seriously, I won't feel guilty when you die." He says stomping to his room. We should feel bad, and we do, a little; but all we've done is train and fight for almost a week, it's nice to be silly, seeing as we'll be in the arena in 48 hours.

We even manage to piss off poor Effie. After Effie said we should bow after introducing ourselves Peeta and I made a show of bowing at the end of every sentence and spoke with a Capital accent. She told us to leave.

We head in the direction of our rooms before Peeta takes me by the hand and leads me through a door and a hallway I've never been to before.

"Where are we going?" I whisper.

"Why are you whispering?" Peeta asks in his own whisper, a smile tugging on his lips.

"Where are we going?" I ask again at a normal volume.

"You'll see," Peeta replies.

We turn a corner to a stairwell and climb them quickly. He pushes open the metal door and I'm almost blown over by the sweetest smelling air I've ever smelled outside of the meadow in District Twelve. The sun is blinding and high in the sky. When my eyes finally adjust I see we're on the roof, there's a covered patio with plush looking chairs and a small table, there are flowers everywhere.

"How did you know about this?" I ask, looking around in awe. I turn to Peeta to see him smiling at me.

"Cinna showed me, it's very windy up here, they don't bother with microphones."

We stroll around the roof top, looking at the flowers and the skyline of the Capital.

"Why would they allow us to have access up here? Couldn't someone jump off if they were desperate enough?"

"I asked Cinna that, he said there's a force field that surrounds the edge of the building, it's outside of every window too. If you touch it it jolts you back. Watch," Peeta walks over and plucks a full red rose from a rose bush, he walks closer to the wall and tosses it over. We watch as it falls a few feet before there's a crackle of energy and sparks of blue and white before the rose sails back over our heads and lands on the ground, singed and smoking.

"Well, I guess that answers that." I say, looking at the rose sadly. It's not enough to want us fight to the death, but we couldn't escape even if we tried.

"Why don't we sit? We have a little while before we have to go down." Peeta suggests, taking my hand and leading me to a chair, I sit down, and am cocooned in the fluffy cushion. If I had the time, I might take a nap up here.

"You want to talk?" Peeta asks, his eyes searching my face.

"Not really," I say indifferently.

"It's ok, you know? It's alright to be scared." He offers, taking my hand again.

"I'm not scared for myself, I just worry about Prim... And my mom. What if she leaves again?"

Peeta's face softens and he scoots closer to me. "You know Gale and Hazel will watch over them, you can't focus on that now." Peeta consoles, putting his arm around my shoulder, I rest my head on his chest. We sit there for a moment, just enjoying each other's company.

"What about you?" I ask quietly.

"I'm just scared something will happen to you. You're all I have, Katniss." He says earnestly.

"You know that's not true, your father still needs you. Bram and Rye, they love you. You'll have them if I don't come home."

Peeta is quiet for a long time before he speaks again, I've heard and seen some sad and terrible things when it comes to Peeta, but I think this breaks my heart the most- "If you can't come, I'm not sure I'll be going home either." He says with such finality that I don't know how to argue back.

It seems like only a few minutes pass, sitting in Peeta's arms, before Effie is opening the door and telling us it's time.

We stand up, hands still linked and walk over to Effie, her eyes are misty and her right hand is resting on her chest, over her heart. "You dears are so precious," she says touching each of our faces before she turns and leaves the rooftop.

I look at Peeta in confusion, he just shrugs and we follow our emotional escort.

The ride down to the training center is silent except for Effie's small sniffles and quiet whispers that sound like "Poor darlings."

We step off the elevator and Effie turns around without saying goodbye. I wonder what's wrong with her?

It seems we're the last to arrive, everyone is either paired off with their District partner or walking around the small sitting room. Peeta and I take the only two connecting chairs, that just so happen to be in front of Cato and his partner, Clove.

Clove barely spares us a glance and goes back to picking her nails. Cato watches our every move, smirking whenever we happen to look at him.

One by one the Tributes are called; we each get twenty minutes to show the Gamemakers anything we feel could help us in the arena. If they like it they give you a high score, showing sponsors who they could invest in. But not everyone with a low score is helpless. Johanna Mason from District Seven only got a five for her score, but proved to be lethal with an ax.

Finally I'm called, I step into the room and hone in on the Gamemaker box; they are all milling about, drinking from fancy glasses. A few are having animated conversations, an old man is sleeping in his chair. look around and grab a bow before turning back to the viewing box, the sleeping man has woken up and is watching me with bleary eyes.

"My name is Katniss Everdeen, District Twelve." I announce, one or two Gamemakers turn and wave a hand urging me to continue. I turn away towards the targets and grab an arrow, I pull and release a few times, getting a feel for the foreign weapon in my hands. I finally aim at a dummy in the far corner and release the arrow, it lands dead center to where the heart should be, I take a chance and look at the box, only the few who have originally seen me are paying attention. I send a few more arrows around the room, hitting various targets with different degrees of difficulty. I even decide to show off a bit and throw in some tumbling and rolls. And still only those three are watching me, but just barely. Someone is passing out cake and more drinks are being poured.;

A fire ignites in my belly and my body hums with rage. I know it's a long day of watching people do things they think are spectacular, but my damn life is on the line! Furious, I look around for something, anything. My eyes land on a bucket of tennis balls. I grab three of them and bounce them on the ground, and with a speed I have never possessed shoot off three arrows, impaling the tennis balls into the wall behind the Gamemakers.

A woman shrieks, a man stumbles into the six tier cake behind him. The sleeping man is laughing, but the majority are stunned.

I smirk at them, take a deep bow and raise back up. "Thank you so much for your attention." I say, standing there, looking each of them in the eye.

"Thank- thank you, Miss Everdeen. You may go,"

I nod curtly and replace the bow and leave through the door I came.

...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I took the tennis ball idea from Arrow, I thought it was cool.
> 
> Also, I SO didn't intended to make Cato so dark, but hey, he is kinda psychotic. I'm looking forward to exploring that.
> 
> Katniss seems to be warming up to Peeta a bit more. I'm trying, but she's so dang stubborn. But soon my lovelies. Soon.


	9. Chapter Eight

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So so sorry! A million and one apologies! But, FINALLY, here is the next chapter!
> 
> And this is a BIG one too! I decided to add some Everlark feels to make up for being such a bad author. I was going to split this in two, but I decided you guys deserve some feels for putting up with my lazy updating.

...

Stupid. Stupid. Stupid! I berate myself on the way to the elevator. I basically attacked the Gamemakers. I'm going to be dead before the Games start!

I push the button for our floor and pace the elevator car. What would they do to me?

Prim.

Would they do something to her?

The door slides open, showing Peeta, Effie, Portia and Cinna waiting for me. I slip passed the adults and grab Peeta's arm and drag him to my room and lock the door.

I pace some more as I tell Peeta everything. It takes all of my energy not to cry out of anger at myself.

Peeta looks at me stunned; before a smile creeps onto his perfectly sunny face. "I wish I could have seen that!"

"Be serious, Peeta! What if they arrest me or something?" I say, resuming my pacing.

Peeta stands from my bed and grabs me by my shoulders. "If they arrest you, who will take your place? There's no time for another reaping."

"They could have someone take Prim-"

"After the spectacle you made at the reaping? There would be an uprising if Prim mysteriously were to be entered into the Games."

I take a deep breath and try and see the logic in Peeta's statement. With the way I volunteered, Prim is sure to be a name heard in every house by now. Maybe they won't do anything to her, but surely I won't go punishment free.

After Peeta is satisfied I'm done freaking out he leads me to the dining room where everyone seems to be waiting on us.

"Sorry," I say meekly, sitting in the chair Peeta has pulled out for me.

Portia and Cinna give me looks of understanding, while Effie's eyes linger on me. She gives me a small smile and hands me some ice cream.

The elevator doors open and Haymitch steps into the room looking positively giddy. He practically floats to his seat next to Peeta and starts piling food on his plate. "How'd your session go, Golden Boy?"

Peeta looks down at his plate, hesitant to answer. "Well, they mostly ignored me until I started throwing things around." He later tells me that he practically destroyed the area. "Then they said I could go." He finishes with a shrug.

"What about you dear? Did you do anything special? I bet you just wowed them." Effie says, in an excitable manner that only Effie can achieve.

I start to brush off her comment before Haymitch giggles. Honestly, the man giggled. "Oh, Sweetheart, you gotta let me tell them." He says.

"How do you know? I thought those sessions were private?" I ask nervously.

"They are; but Stanley Hindsberg was there, and after a few drinks, he had no qualms telling me what a 'spitfire my female Tribute was.'"

I sit back in my chair and cross my arms sullenly, but nod my head. Maybe it won't sound so terrible coming from Haymitch.

"You what?!" Effie shrieks.

"Oh, she did! I might even be able to get the footage up here." Haymitch says falling into hysterics.

"Katniss, you can't- darling, that wasn't-"

"Yeah, well I did! They were all too busy drinking and eating cake, it made me so mad; I shot tennis balls at them!" I say huffing.

"Tell them about the cake!" Haymitch wheezes, taking big gulps of air between laughs.

Everyone looks expectantly at me, I feel myself deflate just a bit. "I scared a man and he fell into the cake."

Portia coughs into her wine, Cinna has a ghost of a smile and Peeta and Haymitch are laughing so hard they have to hold each other up; I look to Effie, her face is unreadable. I don't know what it is about Effie, but I've slowly come to care for her and in turn her opinion of me. Her lips twitch briefly before she giggles behind her hand. "Maybe," She says after calming herself, "this will be a lesson to them. Everyone counts, they should have as much regard for all the Tributes, it's not as if you're doing this for fun!" Effie quietly exclaims. She looks around the table in panic. "I'm sorry, that was terribly inappropriate."

"I'm impressed, Barbie; that almost sounded a little rebellious." Haymitch says smirking at Effie.

"You really shouldn't be encouraging this type of behavior, it's only going to hurt the children." Effie says, her voice cracking at the end.

"They're already being hurt." Haymitch says gruffly. He looks back at me, humor completely gone from his eyes. "Relax, Sweetheart, they can't do anything to you without revealing why. They're more likely to make your life hell from now on. Which, lets be honest, that won't be very hard." I don't admire much about Haymitch, but I can trust his blunt honesty. It's kind of comforting.

"A man slept the whole time. He woke up after the first ball and laughed so hard at the man trying to get out of the cake I thought he was going to have a heart attack." This causes everyone to laugh, even Effie, who seems to have relaxed again.

...

After dinner everyone goes to the sitting room to watch the score reveals. Effie takes hold of my arm gently and guides me to sit between her and Peeta; as the show goes on she pats my hand or lightly puts her hand on mine. I'm grateful for the contact, it grounds me.

Then Peeta's picture is up, Farrah swoons, and a large sparkling 10 is flashing under his name. The room erupts into slight chaos, Peeta is being patted on the back and congratulated, he looks completely stunned.

Now my picture is up and Claudius and Farrah wax on about how I'm sure to have a great score. I shift lower into the couch, dread pumping in my veins. "Sit up right, darling, your spine will curve and stay that way." Effie whispers in my ear. I sit up with a grumble and wait for the inevitable. Effie suddenly squeals and bounces in her seat, Cinna hoots in the background. I look up in time to see the bright 11 flashing under my name.

My head snaps to Haymitch. "Why?" I ask.

Haymitch shrugs. "I guess they liked your fire," he says with a snicker.

Soon Cinna and Portia are saying their goodbyes. "I can't wait to dress you for your interviews." Cinna says stopping to hug me.

"Do I have to fear being burned alive?" I ask only slightly kidding.

"It's a surprise," he says kissing my forehead. "goodnight, Fire Girl." And then he's gone. Effie says goodnight with a squeeze to our shoulders, Haymitch chuckles and pats my head before lightly punching Peeta's arm.

Peeta watches them go before shuffling over to me, he wraps his arms around my shoulders and I rest my forehead on his chest. "Don't worry about it, you did good." He says kissing the top of my head. "I'll see you in the morning, yeah?"

I look into his eyes, and am struck by the feelings passing through them, they're so intense that I can't seem to speak. I dumbly nod my head and watch as Peeta's small smile ignites into a large toothy grin. He gives me one last strong hug before he lets me go. He hesitates for the briefest moment, like he wants to say something, but he just smiles and quietly wishes me sweet dreams before he too, has left the room.

I don't know how long I stand there, looking at the spot Peeta had just vacated. My chest gets that electricity feeling again and I can't stop thinking about the look in his eyes.

 

...

"Darling, breakfast is served!" Effie squawks from behind my closed door. I groan and throw the blanket over my head, I'm exhausted. After Peeta had gone to bed, I stayed up way too late trying to decipher the emotions in his eyes, which in turn, angered me because I was losing my focus. I need to get us home, keep Prim safe; not have tender moments in the dark with my best friend.

"Dear, if you don't come out in five minutes I shall send Flavius up. He just bought a new shade of lipstick and he simply can not stop talking about it." Effie says, her voice is sweet, but the threat is there. I've never been on the receiving end of Flavius' squealings, having only met him once, but the stories from Effie, Cinna and even Haymitch are enough to send me tumbling out of bed and working my way through a shower.

"There she is!" Haymitch says, stuffing a piece of sausage into his mouth. "We've got a lot to do today."

I sit down next to Effie, and away from the bits of food flying out of Haymitch's mouth as he talks.

"To save time, we're splitting you up. Sweetheart, you'll be with me first, Wonder Boy will be with Effie. We'll switch after lunch." More sausage. "Questions?"

"Yes, lots." I snark.

"Well save them for later." Haymitch huffs, returning to his breakfast.

I shoot Peeta an evil grin, to which he groans.

After breakfast Haymitch takes me to the sitting room, he lays down on the couch and throws his arm over his eyes. I sit in a chair across from him.

"What are we supposed to be doing?"

"Shh, lower your voice, uncle Haymitch has a hangover."

"Yeah, well, what's new?"

"I'd say I'm sorry, but I'm not. Drinking with Stanley last night was worth it, he wouldn't have spilled his guts while sober." He says, letting out a loud breath.

"Glad to be the reason to drive you to drink," I say sardonically.

"You're not the first woman to make me drink, I doubt you'll be the last." He says finally pushing himself up to a seated position. I raise my eyebrows at him but don't ask him to elaborate.

"So... What are we supposed to do?"

"You're sarcastic,"

"Thank you," I laugh bitterly.

"Rude,"

"Excuse me?" I ask, completely offended.

"Closed off,"

"Hmph,"

"No people skills,"

I cross my arms, waiting for his attack on my being to be over.

"Abrasive,"

I roll my eyes and give him a rude hand gesture.

"Crude, mean and surly; you're snarky and don't know when to shut your mouth."

"Only around you," I whisper, but the quirk of his lips tells me he heard me anyway. "Are you done? Because I was under the impression you were supposed to be helping me, not giving me a complex."

"Not quite, but we'll come back to that later. Alright, so you're..." His face scrunches up looking for the right word. "Moody; how can we make that work for you?"

"If I've been moody the last few days it's because I've been forced to the Capital, plucked and prodded and put on display like some prize winning animal, and oh, hey, I totally have to try and out survive twenty-two kids so Peeta and I can go home!" I say bitterly, reclining into my seat.

"No one forced you here, Sweetheart, you volunteered." He snaps.

"I didn't have a choice!" I growl at him.

"Yeah, yeah, the big mean Capital picked your sister and you threw yourself on the proverbial grenade. What are you going to do about it?" He says hotly, leaning forward, almost in my face.

"Are you trying to give me a pep talk?" I ask leaning away, unable to not needle Haymitch.

"I'm trying to figure out how to get people to like you," he huffs.

"Yeah, well, when you do figure that out, I'll be right here." I relax further in my chair.

Haymitch regards me for a moment, narrowing his eyes, before laying back on the couch and closing his eyes.

"What are you doing?"

"Taking a nap. Just- just try not to act like you hate everyone tomorrow, you'll be fine." He says before his breath evens out and he falls asleep.

I sit in silence, munching from the bowl of mixed nuts before Peeta tells me it's time to switch.

"Good luck," I whisper to Peeta.

"Don't worry about Wonder Boy, he's very likable; aren't you, sparky?" Haymitch says, winking at me. "Now, go away, the boy and I have grown up things to talk about." He waves his hands at me in a dismissive way.

"Did she do the finger thing?" Peeta asks Haymitch.

"There might have been some eye rolling as well." Haymitch replies, smirking at me.

"Like this?" Peeta asks, dropping his shoulders and rolling his eyes in an exaggerated manner.

"Yes, but with those pouty lips." Haymitch pushes out his lips.

"Cute, you guys are super funny. But if you'll excuse me, I must go learn how to sit like a lady." I say saluting them and closing the door behind me.

...

Effie was in the sitting room drinking tea and lightly tapping her foot to a beat only she could hear, she perked up when she saw me standing in the doorway. "There you are, darling! Sit, sit! You must try this tea, it's divine."

I sat in the chair next to her and reached out to the closet cup. Effie sighed and made a disproving noise with her tongue. "Oh, dear, you can not sit like that!" She chided. I looked down at myself, I was slouching and my legs were stretched out in front of me. "Sit up straight, and always, always cross your legs at the ankles when wearing a dress."

"But, I'm not wearing one."

"Oh but you will tomorrow, best get used to it now. Come on, at the ankle. No, dear, feet on the floor. Yes, perfect!"

I sighed. "Is this how the rest of the day is going to go?"

"Oh don't be like that! I'll make this fun!" She said sipping on her drink, before setting it down and gesturing to a plate of finger sandwiches, as well as some larger, heartier sandwiches. "Perhaps we should have a snack before we officially get started, hmm?"

I looked at Effie's smiling face and then to the tray of food. Was this a test? Will she smack my hand if I pick the wrong one? Her smile only grows larger the longer I contemplate things. Oh, what the heck, I'm starving. I grab one of the thicker sandwiches and take a bite.

"Perhaps we could chat for a bit, get a feel for how tomorrow is going to go?" She asks with a pleasant smile.

"Is there going to be food backstage? Because that would be great." I say, barely managing to swallow before I answer.

Effie grimaces, "Oh, dear. You know, I have a saying from my mother when she was teaching me table manners; 'chew like you have a secret,' and I think that would be a good thing for you to remember from now on."

I smile at her and take a larger bite.

And really, that set the tone for the remainder of my lesson. Effie tried to be strict, but she kept laughing and saying how 'endearing' or 'cheeky' I was.

"That's it, dear, I simply have nothing else to teach you. I hope you remembered the important stuff, you'll need it once you're a Victor." She said wistfully, tucking a stray hair behind my ear. Her eyes start to grow misty and she fans her face.

"I'm sorry I wasn't serious enough today, Effie." I say trying to soothe her, tears are not meant for Effie's chipper face.

"Oh, darling you were fine, I haven't laughed so much in ages. It's just, oh I don't want to trouble you with my problems."

My heart clinches for her; somewhere, somehow, against the odds, I've grown fond of this Capital woman standing in front of me. I place a gentle hand on her shoulder. "Isn't that what friends are for?" I say softly, her eyes widen in surprise. "I let you put green goo on my face. And we gossiped. If that isn't something friends do, then I don't know what they do."

She looks at me for a moment before I can see her wall break. She sits on a small couch and pats the space next to her.

"A long time ago, when I was very young, about your age; I had a boyfriend who I loved very much." She paused to wipe her nose and took a deep breath. "I had discovered that I was pregnant, we were so scared to tell our parents. My parents weren't keen on my seeing him to begin with. They were socialites, becoming rich from luxury hotels hidden in the Districts around Panem; his family worked at the train station, very respectful, honest hard work. But it just wasn't what they wanted for me."

I'm shocked, I had no idea there were class differences in the Capital. I assumed everyone was well off.

"Anyway, we told them and his parents weren't happy, of course, but were very accepting. My parents went through the roof, they forced us to stop seeing each other and were threatening to make me get rid of the baby. Charlie, that was his name, would sneak and see me, just after my parents would retire for the evening. Every night for three months he would wish me goodnight. And one night he didn't show, I was more worried than anything. He wouldn't just not show up. A few hours later my mother had knocked on my door and plainly told me that a citizen from District Eleven had stowed away on the train, planned on coming to the Capital to assassinate President Snow but Charlie had caught him and in the ensuing fight had been killed; then she said good night and left me alone." She finished, her bottom lip wobbling just a bit.

"I'm so sorry, Effie." I said breaking the silence, wondering why I had never heard of this before, but I guess it shouldn't be known that you can just hide and hitch a ride to the Capital. She nodded in acknowledgment before continuing.

"After his funeral and the execution of his killer I grew very sick. An illness that hasn't been seen since swept through the Capital, many people were effected. There was nothing to be done but to wait it out, but I ended up losing my baby." My head turned up and I lock eyes with her, my stomach begun to roll. She has been through so much. Is that why she does what she does? Has she become so desensitized to pain, that she doesn't see this as wrong?

"It's difficult to be around you sometimes. You remind me of my Charlie, he was so sarcastic, but he was also the sweetest boy I had ever known. I just know my little girl would have been just like you." She says, giving me a watery smile.

I don't know what to say, I stare at her, probably longer than necessary, before pulling her into a hug. She squeezes me tightly before letting me go. She grabs a tissue and dabs her eyes. "Oh my, enough of this, my face is running." She says with a strained laugh. "Any questions before we go?"

"Can you tell me what to do tomorrow?" I ask, and hate how weak my voice sounds.

"How about you pretend you're talking to a friend?" She says cheerfully.

"My friends wouldn't place bets on how long it takes me to die." I snap at her. I regret my tone, but she doesn't seem phased by it.

"Think about your sister, answer the questions like she is the one asking. Have you ever told her a story before?" I nod. "Just reply like you're telling her a story, people want to like you, most already do. Just speak to them like you do with your sister, and everything will be just fine." She smiles and pokes my cheek. "Now, I don't know about you, but I'm famished. Let's get dinner, shall we?"

...

Effie and I are both quiet during dinner, she, no doubt, thinking of the events of another lifetime, and me, still trying to process everything. It also makes me think of my mother. How she retreated into herself, neglecting Prim and I. It's amazing how people handle grief; my mother only lost a husband, Effie lost her baby and her boyfriend within a few months.

The gentle pressure of Peeta's hand on my elbow brings my focus back to the table. I try to smile at him, but it's no use; Peeta can see through it, always could. "You alright?" He whispered.

I nod, not really trusting my voice.

"Ok," he says, giving my elbow a light squeeze before returning to his food.

After dinner, Peeta asks if I want to sit with him, maybe watch some Capital TV, which sounds tempting; Effie had me watch this show called a Soap Opera, it was hilarious, although I'm sure it wasn't meant to be. "No, I'm pretty tired, I think I'm just going to go to bed."

"Are you sure you're ok? I haven't seen you look this sad since Jimmy Millhouse tore up your paper snowflakes." He's trying to cheer me up, I know he is, and I feel bad for lying to him. But I just don't know how to be around him right now.

"Yeah, I'm just tired. I'll be fine in the morning." I back out of the dinning room and stalk back to my room.

I get ready for bed on autopilot- I don't even know how I got into my pajamas- and lay there in the darkness. Things were supposed to be perfect here, it was why the Capital was so much better than the Districts. If things can happen like the things that happened to Effie and Charlie, maybe the Capital isn't so perfect. If they can't protect a citizen of the city, maybe they don't have as much power as they lead us to believe?

Sleep came quickly after that epiphany, but it was anything peaceful. Dream after dream of watching Prim wasting away in front of me. Having to see Gale being publicly executed for poaching and his mother blaming me because I wasn't there to help him. My mother, falling back into her haze, wondering into the woods and never coming out again. I almost cry for joy when Flavius' orange bouncy hair greets me when I finally open my eyes.

They are so chatty, talking about this party, and the food and fashion. I try to listen and add input when asked but I really just want this to be over. Octavia and Venia wax and pluck at my face. Didn't I just have this done?

"Sorry, love. All done!" Says Octavia helping me sit up, Venia takes away the tray of pain and Flavius rolls in a large cart full to the brim of exotic colors and creams.

While Flavius and Octavia work on my face, Venia does things to my hair. This part I don't mind, Flavius and Octavia are gentle, and whatever Venia is doing to my scalp feels marvelous.

When they are done they step back with a sigh. "You look beautiful," Venia squeals, grabbing Octavia by the hands and the pair of them jump up and down excitedly.

"You really do," Flavius says swiping green lipstick on his plump lips. "The audience is going to love you." He looks to the women. "Please tell Cinna she is ready." Flavius bows and then leaves the room.

Cinna opens the door with a smile. "Fire girl, you look fierce."

I try to smile, but I hate not being able to see what the prep team has done. "Any chance I can see it?"

Cinna smirks at me, "Not until you're dressed, you have to see the full effect." He opens a door that was previously invisible to me and pulls out a large black bag with a hanger at the top. "Close your eyes," he says unzipping the bag.

I do as he says and he slips something over my head. It feels like silk, and fits perfectly.

"Alright, open them."

I open my eyes and have to do a double take. I don't recognize the person in the mirror. My face is done up in a way I would call alluring, my eyes have a dark eyeshadow done in what I heard Flavius call a "smoky eye" it's all dark and glittery, my lips are a vibrant red and my hair is half up with elaborate braids and the rest falling in curls.

And the dress, oh this dress; its fitted at the bust but the rest lays like a waterfall, loose but elegant. The skirt of the dress is black but fades into orange, the color the sky turns just before the sun sets. It's a halter with the strap running into a cape. There's an amber color gem connecting the strap in the middle, just under where my collar bones meet.

Cinna stands at my side, looking at me with a sad smile. I like to think Cinna and I have become friends, so knowing this might be one of the last time I see him, makes me feel sad too.

"Touch the gem,"

My fingers lightly graze the stone and my dress comes to life. The black dances with gray and orange, resembling a hot coal.

The dress reminds me of a story my mother used to tell me; a man had wanted to win his loves attention, so he went into a mine and found a piece of the most precious metal and after forging the metal in fire, hammering and bending he presented his love with a golden crown fit for a queen.

That's how I feel in this moment; Cinna has taken me and dipped me, shaped me in fire and turned me into something beautiful.

I realize I've been staring at myself and the moment feels too heavy. I look at Cinna and smile. "Any chance I can flap this cape and make a quick getaway?" I ask fluffing the cape behind me. My trick works and Cinna barks with laughter.

"See, I need you to come home. You and Portia are the only ones who keep me sane." He says hugging me gently. He pulls away and fixes a curl at my shoulder. "Are you ready?"

I groan, "I'm going to be awful!"

Cinna scoffs, "I don't think so."

I glare at him. "Haymitch said I'm snarky and don't know when to shut my mouth."

"Maybe so, but that's what I like about you. Be snarky."

I huff and pace the room.

"He also said I was mean and surly."

"Everyone who has to deal with Haymitch is mean and surly." He stops my pacing and has me stand in front of the mirror again, he puts his hands on my shoulders and stands behind me. "Just be that fierce girl who volunteered for her sister. The prep team adores that girl, I'm pretty fond of her myself." He says tickling my cheek, I laugh and slap his hand away.

"Effie said to just pretend I was talking to Prim."

"That's a good idea, but just in case, I'll be sitting in the front, you just look at me if you need to, I'll make a silly face or something." He says with a chuckle.

I laugh, Cinna doesn't seem like he does silly things very often.

Somewhere in the distance and bell chimes. "Time for the show, let's get you to the elevator."

Cinna leaves me when we spot Effie, Haymitch and Peeta waiting for me. Haymitch is actually dressed very nicely in a dark brown suit, Effie is dressed outrageously as always, and Peeta... Peeta looks dashing in his black suit with a pocket square the matches the orange of my dress. His hair has been combed back and his face seems to shine. When his eyes finally fall on me they grow as big as saucers and his mouth gapes open.

"Katniss, you look- you're beautiful." He stutters.

"Hey there, Sweetheart. Glad you finally made it. Let's go." Haymitch says, shoving us into the elevator.

I reach for Peeta's hand and give a slight squeeze. "You look handsome." I whisper. Peeta's face pinks and he looks at the floor. Effie suddenly squeals with laughter. I glare at her thinking she's laughing at Peeta.

Effie shakes her head and fans her face. "Oh, not you two, dear! I was just thinking about what a possible sponsor said to me this afternoon." She bursts into laughter.

"Don't leave us in suspense, sugar." Haymitch deadpans with a roll of his eye.

"I'm sorry, I just can't believe it! Ok, ok, she said 'Your Tributes are marvelous, I have no doubts they'll go far. After all, even the hardest pieces of coal turns to pearls with enough pressure.' Isn't that the most ridiculous thing you've ever heard?!" She pauses to laugh some more, it's nice to see her so carefree. "I had a mind to correct her, if she wasn't being so generous with her money. The poor dear, her chest was bigger than her brains." She finishes taking a deep breath and dabbing at her eyes.

All of us are chuckling when the doors open.

You ever close the opening on an ant hill and watch the ants clamor out and scurry around trying to make sense of everything? That's what backstage looks like. There are people on headsets, grabbing Tributes and putting them in order, people are shouting and stylists are putting finishing touches on their Tributes.

Effie looks around and give me a manic smile, and takes hold of mine and Peeta's elbows and takes us to the back of the line. "Alright dears, big smiles, everyone loves you!" She sing songs before gliding away.

Haymitch pats Peeta on the back and gives me a once over. "Smile, Sweetheart, we're all one big family here." He finishes with a smile, I give him a rude hand gesture. "Oh, I'm telling Effie!"

My eyes widen, "No, don't!" I whisper yell, but he's already walking away and the line is moving.

The girls are ushered to the stage first followed by the boys. I'm blinded by lights, but resist the urge to shield my eyes, I can hear Effie telling me how that would be bad manners. The crowd has not stopped clapping and cheering since the girl from District One stepped on stage.

"Ladies and gentlemen," a voice, Claudius Templesmith, says from above, "our host, who really doesn't need an introduction, Caesar Flickerman!"

A curtain on the right side of the stage lifts and Caesar waltzes out, he's wearing an orange suit, with hair and make up to match this year. Last year he work black and gray, he looked like a talking, laughing corpse.

Caesar has been hosting the interviews for over 40 years, but he doesn't look a day over 40 himself. Surgery and other enhancements are a staple in the Capital, you can look as young, or as weird as you want.

Caesar is playing up the crowd, saying he feels old, and there are reassurances that he's not, shouts of love are heard before he settles the crowd down and calls the first Tribute, Glimmer, to the front of the stage. She's wearing a very sheer dress and her attitude she seems to be going for is a nauseating combination of vapid and sexy.

The interviews only last for three minutes before an obnoxious buzzer goes off and your turn is over. Caesar is really good at his job, he tries to get the tributes to talk about what they're comfortable with, and leads the conversation to make the Tribute look good.

Someone, Peeta, touches my hand, and I realize that it's somehow my turn. But wasn't Cato just bragging out how strong and smart he was? I hardly remember Rue's- who was dressed in a pink dress fit for a princess- interview, she spoke of her ability to hide. But now Caesar is standing and beckoning me forward, Peeta squeezes my hand and give me a small encouraging smile.

I stand on shaky legs and make my way forward, I look to the audience, and just as he said, Cinna is sitting front and center next to Portia. He squares his shoulders and tilts his chin up, silently encouraging me to be strong. I mirror his posture and shake Caesar's hand.

"There she is, our favorite girl on fire!" Caesar gushes, causing the audience to clap and shout my name. I absently smile at the audience and sit in the chair provided for me. "Look at that! They love you!" Caesar says motioning his arm in an arch over the stage.

I smile and wave to the crowd, when that only gets an even more chaotic response I put a finger to my lips and shush them. I'm taken aback when they almost immediately quiet down. The surprise must be written over my face because Caesar looks at me with wide eyes before composing himself.

"Well, I suppose the first question a lot of people are wondering, how are you fairing here? What's your favorite part?"

I pretend to think for a moment, "I'd have to say the hairdryers are at the top of my list," this gets a decent laugh from Caesar and the crowd.

"Oh yes, if I didn't have one, my hair would be bigger and crazier than Miss Trinket's!" He says jokingly. A screen shows Effie self consciously patting her outrageously tall hair. "Oh you look wonderful, dear!" Caesar shouts reassuringly. His laughing eyes focus back on me. "What else?"

"I had this new ice cream on the train, it was delicious."

"Oh the foamy stuff?" Caesar asks, I nod. "Oh isn't it scrumptious? I could eat it all day!"

"Oh yes," I agree, "when we win," I say stressing the word 'we'. "I'm going to demand it regularly." I say finishing off by stage whispering to Caesar. People laugh at my false attempt at secrecy.

Who is this person? I feel possessed, I'm not this easy going. It must be Caesar.

"Well, I'm sure, for a Victor they would build a factory in District Twelve just for you." He says in mock seriousness, to the audiences amusement. "And speaking of wonderful things, can we talk about your dress for the parade? It was breathtaking; I think I can speak for everyone here and say our hearts stopped when you came out of that tunnel." The audience choruses their agreement. "What was going through your head? I mean, you were on fire!"

I chuckle thinking of what Peeta and I said to each other, I chance a glance at him, his face is split into a large, beaming smile, no doubt thinking about our banter too.

"Well, we- Peeta and I- made plans to put each other's flames out, if need be."

Caesar's face turns inquisitive, he cocks his head to the side, "How so?"

"They weren't solid plans, but they may or may not have involved horse urine." I say with a straight face. The audience goes berserk, large gales of laughter echo through the area, even Caesar is clutching his side in his giggles.

"Now that would be a sight!" He manages, after the crowd quiets down again. "And speaking of fire, Cinna has truly outdone himself tonight, you look magnificent. Are there any surprises with this dress?"

I look to Cinna, who gives me a small smile and a thumbs up.

"There is, no fire tonight, but it's still pretty amazing. Would you like to see?" I ask, directing the question to the audience. Shouts and the thunder of clapping answer me. I stand with Caesar's help and push the jewel on my collarbone when he stands away. A collective gasp rings through the people before they all cheer. Caesar inches closer before nervously touching the cape; satisfied it won't burn him, he starts to run the material through his fingers and then lifts it and let's it go with a flourish, the cape dancing back down to earth.

He helps me sit down again. "That's wonderful!" He shouts over the noise. "Now, about that score, I believe that's the highest I've ever seen. Care to share what you did to earn it?"

"Well, I, uh, I don't think I'm supposed to say." I say looking around for some help.

"Leave it be, Flickerman, you know the rules!" A man's voice shouts from a balcony. A spot light zeros in on him, and I recognize him as the man who fell in the cake.

Caesar waves dismissively to the man and turns back to me, his eyebrows arched in question.

"I guess I can say, I don't think anyone had tried it before." There are few scattered nervous laughs from the crowd. The camera pans to the man, his cheeks are red and his rounded frame hidden by the balcony wall, his nods his head 'no' before Caesar guffaws, sending the audience back into a fit of giggles.

"As if we expected less," he says patting my hand.

I look around at the smiling faces of the Capital citizens, all of them hanging on every word I say. I don't know why I was so worried about tonight, I could probably belch to the tune of the Anthem and they'd still smile.

"Can you tell us about Prim?" Caesar asks softly.

There it is.

I look at him, my walls coming back up. This is exactly why I didn't want to do this. These people don't deserve to hear about Prim, they couldn't begin to understand her goodness. I can tell by the apologetic look on his face that he knows I don't want to talk about her.

I swallow the lump in my throat and give him a brittle smile. "She's twelve, and she's absolutely everything to me." I say thickly.

Caesar nods in acknowledgement. "What did you talk about when you said your goodbyes?" His voice has taken on a softer tone, like he's speaking to a wounded animal, which in a sense he is. Talking about Prim with these people is like have my chest cavity blown open and watching as people pass around my beating heart.

I take a quick breath, "She made me swear I would come home," I say, loathing how vulnerable my voice sounds.

"And what did you say?" Caesar asks, his own voice full of emotion, it causes me to pause, uncertain if he's playing up the seriousness, or if he is genuinely moved. I decide it doesn't really matter, this is part of his job.

"I promised I would," I say, stronger this time.

Caesar pats my knee as the buzzer goes off, he helps me front me seat. "Thank you very much; Katniss Everdeen, everyone!"

The crowd cheers and claps, the sound continuing even after I've gotten to my seat. I studiously ignore my fellow Tributes, and their death glares, instead I send Peeta a reassuring smile, at his concerned gaze.

Peeta is called and he makes his way to the front of the stage. Caesar asks how he likes things so far. "Well, I'll say my hands have never been softer, feel 'em. Like a baby's bottom." They make a show of touching each other hands and faces, much to the delight of the audience.

After things settle down Caesar gets down to business. "What made you volunteer, Peeta?"

Peeta takes a deep breath before he answers, "I just couldn't, in good conscious let that kid go, he could hardly walk on his own." The crowd awes, a few ladies close to the front clutch their chests, swooning over Peeta's answer.

"Was there another reason?" Caesar asks.

Peeta nods, "I couldn't let her go alone,"

"Katniss?" Caesar hedges.

"She's my best friend," Peeta says, a small smile gracing his face as he looks at me. My chest gets that weird feeling again, and I have to look away to make it stop.

Caesar seems to study him for a moment, before something flickers in his eyes. "Is it only friendship on your part?" He asks as the audience gasps. I look up, trying to see what caused their reaction when I see a photo on a large screen. It's grainy, but there's no denying Peeta and I are the subjects of the photo. It's a picture of when Peeta had taken my hand and kissed it before fully exiting the tunnel.

I can feel my face heating up when they replace the picture of a side by side feed of Peeta and I, both of our faces flushing. I can see Peeta struggling for words, his Adam's apple bobbing as he swallows.

"C'mon, Peeta, your secret will be safe with me." He says in a friendly tone, it's however lost when he winks at the audience.

Peeta chuckles nervously, "Well, I suppose if I'm among friends." He says shifting in his seat, the crowd laughs quietly. "Katniss and I have been friends for a long time." He wipes his hands on his pants and crosses and uncrosses his legs. He clears his throat and glances at Caesar before flicking his eyes back to his lap. "We've been friends for a long time, and I think I've loved her longer than I can remember." He finishes making eye contact with Caesar.

I know that every camera in the place is focused on me, but the only thing I can focus on is Peeta. He loves me? I think back over the years; Peeta being so free with his hugs and little touches, putting up with Gale's mean comments, him always defending me when his mother verbally attacks me.

"You've never told her?" Caesar asks softly.

Peeta shakes his head, "I was too scared to," he pauses, before coming to some conclusion. "She really doesn't know the effect she can have on people." He says steadily.

"Well, I can certainly see she has you smitten." He says pointing to a screen. Peeta and Caesar disappear and a silent black and white video begins to play. Peeta and I are sitting in the chairs on the rooftop, my eyes are closed as I lean my head on his chest, Peeta has his arms wrapped around me. A few seconds later he leans down and kisses the top of my head.

The audience coos, and with every 'Aww' I hear I'm finding it difficult to breathe. Peeta said he knew there were cameras up there, but I didn't think they would do this. That was the only moment of goodness I've had since coming here, it was sweet, pure and innocent. And the Capital took it and crushed it.

And now I'm angry. Did Peeta plan this? What was he thinking?!

"I think I speak for all of Panem tonight when I say we are all rooting for you." He shakes Peeta's hand as the buzzer sounds.

Peeta sits next to me, I look at him but his eyes remain forward. Caesar says good night to the crowd and the people watching at home, the Anthem plays and the stage lights dim. A man with a clipboard comes on the stage and directs us off.

The elevator ride is quiet, Haymitch and Effie are blessedly silent. The doors open and we shuffle out, I start walking towards my room but a hand on my shoulder stops me, Peeta retracts his hand and looks at me shyly. "Do you want to talk?"

"Why did you do that? You put way too much attention on us!" Peeta's face starts to turn red. "All of those Tributes are going to come after us now," Haymitch steps forward, his hands up. "Did you make him do this?" I ask through clenched teeth.

"Listen up, Sweetheart, he did you a favor. How long do you think you can hold the Capitals attention once you're in the area? I don't know where that girl being interviewed tonight came from, but I know for a fact she won't be making an appearance again. There wasn't one person in that audience who wasn't touched by Peeta's declaration."

I look from him to Peeta, who looks like he wishes he could fall into a hole. I turn on my heel and run away.

"Katniss!" Peeta shouts at me, but I ignore him and don't stop until I've reached my room. I lock the door and kick my shoes off, I pull my hair loose and throw clips and pins around the room. I take my time taking off Cinna's dress and drape it gently on a chair before barreling into the bathroom and blindly press buttons on the shower and step inside. I scrub myself until my skin is raw; why would Peeta do that? As angry as I am, I just can't believe that Peeta would do something like that on his own, he doesn't have a malicious bone in his body.

I get out and quickly dry off, throwing on the first set of pajamas I can find. I close my door quietly and walk up the hallway to Peeta's room, I don't hear anything so I slip inside. His room is dark, but I can see the lump on his bed in the moonlight. I walk over and sit next to his sleeping form. I reach out and brush some hair off his forehead and he turns his head into my touch. His eyes flicker open. "Katniss?" He asks, he voice thick with sleep and confusion.

"Did you mean it?" I ask, sitting back as he sits up, his back on the headboard.

"Did I mean what?"

"What you said tonight. Did you mean it? Or did Haymitch make you do that?"

"Both, I guess." He shrugs, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. "He asked me how I felt about you this morning, I told him and he said it would help us get sponsors if I admitted it on the show." He isn't looking at me, he's playing with his fingers.

I sit there quietly, watching him, thinking, would it be so bad to let Peeta love me? I already know things have been changing for me; it's always been different with Peeta, he's the sun and everything bright in my life besides Prim. The weird feeling in my chest comes back, and I think I understand it now.

"I'm pretty sure I love you too; I mean as much as I'm capable of loving anything besides Prim."

His head whips up and his eyes meet mine. He looks at me, his eyes going over my face before he clinched his eyes closed. "Please don't say things to make me feel better," he whispers, his voice is so soft and full of pain. The feeling in my chest intensifies but for a different reason this time.

"But I'm not," I say snatching his fist, slowly opening it and threading his fingers in my own. "I think I've loved you since that day you gave me the bread." I start to sniffle and blink back the tears that are threatening to fall, "But you're so good, Peeta, you deserve someone who you can actually walk through town with. Your mother hates me, and I can't stand to watch you go into those mines every day."

Peeta squeezes my hand tightly and uses his free hand to turn my face up to look at him. "Really?" He asks, his eyes smiling.

"Of course, your mom has hated me for as long as I can remember."

"Not that, I mean, it's true," he says causing us both to chuckle. "But the first part," I nod my head, embarrassed. "You know I don't care what my mom thinks, I would work everyday in that mine if it meant I got to come home to you." He pulls me into a hug, I melt in his arms, relief coursing through my body. This is real.

Peeta pulls away slightly, and then his lips are on my cheek, they're soft and warm. He lingers but pulls away all too soon. "You're exactly what I deserve, Big Hands."

...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whoa, Katniss, your JLaw is showing! I didn't mean for her to be so sarcastic and awesome. I've said it before and I'll say it again... once I get on a roll during a chapter it writes itself. I have 5 handwritten (I'm old school, yo.) pages outlined for this chapter, over half of this wasn't planned.
> 
> And anyone catch my 'She's The Man' quote? I saw an opportunity and by golly, I took it! 
> 
> I'm sorry I made Effie so sad, but so much is unknown about her. And I promise it serves a purpose.
> 
> I'd love to be able to show you Katniss' dress, but it's something I dreamed up when I decided to write this. (And the story she talks about was inspired by a Hobbit fanfic, Thorin talks about crafting a courting gift out of gold and jewels)
> 
> Her sway over the audience wasn't too strong or unbelievable was it? I see the Capital people as lost sheep who latch onto anything strong.
> 
> Oh yeah, finally some Everlark action! What did you think?
> 
> Thank you so much for reading!


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